The Throne of Heroes
by Kurusan
Summary: Jaune Arc is the black sheep of his family. Unable to awaken his Aura and scrambling for some kind of achievement, he becomes desperate enough to perform a ritual found in an ancient book of 'magic' - and unwittingly exposes Remnant to things even the esteemed hunters of Beacon Academy can hardly imagine.
1. A Fateful Night

"Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the Archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let Yellow be the color I pay tribute to."

This was, without a doubt, the most foolish thing I had ever done. I was currently in my parent's backyard. That isn't to say I was in a small fenced off yard - far from it. My parents, for all they were horrendously irresponsible and truant, were fairly well off Huntsmen. They had what I suppose could loosely be referred to as an 'estate'. A large plot of land the government had provided them with at a low cost, in exchange for outstanding service to the City of Vale.

"Let my great Master Leon Arc be the ancestor. Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall."

The problem, as my sister had explained it to me, was that the whole ordeal was a bunch of bullshit. Giving my parents a huge plot of land on the outer edge of Vale wasn't a reward. It was a way to force them to police a vast area for Grimm without paying them. After all, what Huntsman would quietly allow whole packs of Grimm to simply remain on their land? More importantly, who would hire such an incompetent Huntsman?

"Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate."

All that is to say, I was well out of sight of my family home as I did. . . whatever this was. I'd been aware of this book for many, many years. It was a book from my great great grandfathers time, and was said to hold the secret to his strength. Of course, that's probably why he'd written it in code and promptly never explained the key to anyone. No one had ever really been able to decipher the thing, and so it had become nothing more than a bit of memorabilia.

"I hereby declare. My body shall serve. My fate shall be your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail. If you will submit to this will and this reason…then answer!"

But not to me. The black sheep of the family. My parents had grown rapidly disillusioned by their time as Huntsman. More than just Grimm, which they enjoyed hunting as the simple, stark representation of evil that they were, they were fed up with _people_. The negativity that drew the Grimm forward was rarely the result of something petty. Far too often, the things that called to the masked monsters were entirely man made. And that was what my parents were often forced to bear witness to as they rode to battle. That was why, for all my begging, they had never awoken my aura. Never trained me.

"An oath shall be sworn here!"

That was why, when all other options had been exhausted. When every wheedling attempt to have someone awaken my aura had failed. When every exercise and avenue had been taken from me.

"I shall attain all virtues of all of Heaven."

I had turned to the book. The crazy, useless, stupid, book. And - using every purely mortal skill in my possession, I'd deciphered it. It hadn't been hard. In fact, I'd learned fairly rapidly that the key was just sitting there, waiting to be found by referencing great great grandfathers old letters. He'd clearly intended for no one but his family to be able to decipher it. He just hadn't counted on one simple thing.

Huntsman, on average, were stupid. And my entire family, every single member from then until now, had been Huntsman.

Every. Single. One.

They weren't dumb persay. They thought fast and evaluated problems at a speed most normal people could never fathom. But they were at heart, fighters. Warriors. Knights. My sisters call it having Warrior Spirit. I call it being a musclehead.

"I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Hell!"

And it turned out to be a damn _magic_ book. Which was foolish in a way that dwarfed even the pre-war sentiment that individuality should not be allowed. Once I'd figured out how to read most of it, I'd just about put the entire stack of papers I'd been working on down in disgust. Great Great Gramps was a nutbar. Magic _wasn't_ real. If you didn't understand how dust and aura worked, either separately or in concert, you might be fooled into believing it existed. But I grew up around Huntsmen. I know my stuff.

"From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power."

Only apparently none of that mattered. I had less than a month before admission to Beacon Academy began. Less than a month to figure out how to use my aura, learn how to fight competently and, most importantly, find a way to fake my somewhat questionable education transcripts. That might not seem like a lot, but at present, my twelve year old sister was better qualified to enter Beacon than I was. Of course, she was also a genius and better qualified to be a full Huntsman than most adults, but the comparison remains. I sucked, and this crazy ritual was pretty much my second last resort. When this inevitably failed, I was going to have to trudge back to my room, get on my scroll, and start trying to discern if any of the stupid aura enhancement drugs that always popped up in spam were worth a damn.

That's how desperate I was. I was willing to gamble on literally anything at this point, and since all the stuff for this ritual was just laying around the attic anyway, I figured I'd give it a shot before pumping my body full of questionable substances and probably ending up dead in an alley.

"Come forth from the ring of restraints, Protector of the Holy Balance!"

It was late at night now, with the moon high above me. The book had indicated that I should finish the ritual just as the Moon reached its peak but I'm not an astrologer, and more importantly, the moons half detonated state made judging its relative position in the sky somewhat difficult. The five candles I'd lit and placed around the crudely drawn image of a pentagram I'd made in the dirt with a stick flickered and brightened suddenly as I spoke the last words of the ritual and then. . . nothing happened.

I wasn't actually expecting much, but it was still disappointing. Snorting in disgust at my newest failure I pulled the white hood of my sweater up to defend from the nights cold and moved forward into the circle to begin putting out the candles. The surrounding grass was damp enough from a recent rainfall that the pant legs of my blue jeans were moist from the hours Id spent setting all of this up and I idly went over the ritual I'd all but memorized in my head. I had no intention of bothering to do this again, but I couldn't help but feel I had gotten one of the arias wrong.

I stepped quickly between my grandfathers red wax candles, leaning over to blow each candle out one at a time. If I'd had even the slightest inkling of how to use my aura I could just cover my fingers in some and pinch the end of each candles wick or something more bad ass like swing my arms and put them all out at once. But since I can't, I opted to spin on the spot in the center of the circle like the dope I am.

Just as I finished making sure my parents estate didn't burn to the ground, a sharp pain arched through my body. I fell to the ground retching and spasming, every nerve in my body burning and tearing and shattering all at once. It was as though a white hot iron rod had been jammed down my spine, and it was all I could do to simply prevent myself from biting off my own tongue even as all dignity left me and I lost control over almost every other aspect of my body. After what felt like hours, but was probably only a few moments, the pain began to recede and a soft yellow glow suffused the the area around me. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. I was still in far too much pain to pay it any mind, and was just barely able to see a large black boot with scratched and worn iron plating on it fall into my field of view.

 _"Wait wasn't it 'Your body shall serve under me' and not 'My body shall serve'?"_

Those were my last thoughts before blacking out.

-ooo-

When I woke up it was early morning, the light of the sun just cresting a nearby hill, as though some divine power felt it important to spotlight my stupidity for me. Several of the nearby candles lay on their sides where I'd evidently knocked them over in the midst of my. . . seizure? Oh god had I given my self a seizure? I could _never_ tell my sisters about this. They wouldn't let me out of their sights for the rest of my natural life. There was no escaping them. They were overbearing and overprotective at the best of times, and though they tried to respect my wishes for independence, they were also, all of them, basically super powered killing machines. They could track me down and drag me back home one handed on pretty much a whim. Even my youngest sister - Jasmine, who was a scant twelve years old - could manhandle me with ridiculous ease.

These thoughts running through my mind, I slowly began to pick myself off the ground where I'd apparently spent the night. I used the sleeve of my sweater to wipe drool off my face and quickly began packing all of the nearby 'magical' tools and implements I'd pilfered from my great great grandfather into the messenger bag I'd originally carried them out here in. It was still early so I knew if I was quick I could make it home and change before anyone there took issue with my seeming disappearance. As I finished my preparations and began dragging my foot across the dirt to erase the 'magic' circle I'd sketched into it the previous night, a voice rang out behind me. It was calm and collected, and sounded like it belonged to someone far too cool to associate with someone as completely inept as myself. It was also, I noted with some irritation, in a very mocking tone.

"Well your not a vegetable, so there's that I guess."

I froze on the spot. The idea that someone from town might have been wandering by and seen me seizing up in the middle of what probably looked like a satanic ritual flickered through my mind. Images of everyone in my hometown laughing at me for my apparently insane tendencies flash by my eyes in fast forward and I whirled on whoever was behind me. I praying against all reasonable expectation that it was just someone here to rob the house that we could come to an agreement. He didn't tell anyone about this - and I didn't call the cops.

Or, barring that, maybe the would-be robber could just kill me. I wasn't sure which was preferable yet.

Instead of finding a drunk townie, or a rough and tumble criminal though, what I turned to find was a man dressed in a bright red long coat that seemed to be sewn directly onto an intricately carved and stylized black breastplate. He wore black pants of a fabric I couldn't quite recognize, and had huge black boots that looked like they'd seen a fair amount of use in recent years. His skin was a dark tan, as though he'd spent his entire life under a burning sun labouring, and his hair was white as snow. He looked confident, proud and obnoxious all at the same time.

Basically, he looked like a Huntsman.

I stared at him for a few moments as he leaned on a nearby tree, seemingly completely at ease despite being absolutely out of place for his surroundings. He had a smug look on his face that just about screamed 'I think your a moron' and had one eyebrow quirked upward as though awaiting some sort of pithey response from me. The air around him was hazy, a nearly imperceptible blur that clearly denoted him as something not of this world.

Lost for words I just continued to stare at him until he spoke again; this time a note of concern in his voice.

"I would appreciate it if you could at least pretend to be sentient Master."

That nudged me out of my stupor and left me even more confused. I mean, he was calling me Master, and clearly looked unhappy to be here so the only assumption I could make was. . .

"Are you a demon?" I blurted almost immediately regretting my sudden outburst. Here I was, confronted with someone who almost definitely looked like he could beat the shit out of me and my apparent first thought was 'Did I summon Satan?'. If he was a demon he'd probably be super unimpressed with my ignorance, and if he wasn't he'd. . . probably be super unimpressed by my ignorance. Huh.

The red coated man gave me a pensive look, then walked over to me while speaking. Each step he took punctuated what he was saying as though the words themselves had a physical weight, and the man spoke them as though they were formulaic, or pre planned.

"Servant Archer hears the call of my Master, and answers. I am yours to wield in the coming war."

He ended his sentence by kneeling before me like a knight of old, a far away look in his eyes as though he was remembering something. I got the distinct impression he was trying to copy someone else but was distracted when he stood, smiling amiably at me.

"And I'm not a 'demon'."

And that was it. He just stared at me after that like he was waiting for some response, or a command or. . . something. He seemed benign enough and I took his odd declaration to be a confirmation that I had somehow summoned him. My mind started racing and I had to take a deep breath and really analyze the situation before speaking. He'd placed an odd emphasis on the word 'Servant'. I'd start there.

"Wh- when you say 'Servant'" I started, haltingly. "What exactly does that entail? I did summon you right?" I couldn't help but add the extra question to the end. It was probably petty, but if I really did summon this. . . Archer. . . then I could safely conclude that for all the insanity inherent in the assumption, Magic really might be real.

"I'm not a maid if that's what your asking. A 'Servant' is the physical manifestation of a Heroic Spirit - someone who's legend lives on in the Throne of Heroes." Archer said, pointedly looking in the direction I'd been moving before he surprised me as though to remind me that we were just sort of standing in the middle of a forest. Which was too bad for him, because I had no intention of walking a complete stranger into my family home.

Pointedly ignoring his gesture, I asked "So you're some kind of legendary bad ass? I can't say I can think of anyone from the Great War named 'Archer'"

"Archers not my name - it's my class" Archer corrected me quickly, speaking slowly as though he was explaining to a child that water was in fact wet.

I decided to take a page from his - admittedly douchey - book and simply opted to stare at Archer as though waiting for _him_ to continue. When our staring contest started to stretch out a little farther than I was comfortable, I relented, noting a smug smile on Archers face as I opened my mouth to speak.

"Look, I have no idea what's going on. Yesterday I thought 'Magic' was a bunch of bullshit. Assume your explaining everything going on here to a child."

"And don't be shitty about it." I added, growing more confident that I wasn't about to be murdered by a passing weirdo and seeing the obvious look of disdain and disbelief begin to creep onto Archers face before I'd even finished talking.

"Fine" he shrugged before continuing. "Magic isn't 'bullshit'. It's an ancient tradition passed down through extremely long wealthy family lines that typically grows stronger with each passing generation." He paused as though to make sure I was following, and I spun my finger in the air as though to tell him to get on with it which elicited a snort from him.

"Every sixty years, seven masters are chosen by the Holy Grail-" he raised a finger to forestall the question I was about to ask and continued. "-to summon seven Servants and do battle for the honor of claiming the grail."

"Because Servants are so powerful, the ritual casts us in one of seven different roles or 'classes'. Think of it like a mold we have to take in order to exist in this world."

Archer began counting off on his fingers, holding his hands out in front of him like a five year old.

"The classes are Saber, Lancer, Assassin, Rider, Caster, Berserker, and Archer. I am this wars Archer." He punctuated his statement by using his thumb to gesture at himself when he finished counting, and then waited for me to finally ask some of my questions.

"Whats the Holy Grail?" I finally got to ask, desperately trying to keep up with the sequence of events.

"What's the - " Archer stared at me incredulously, at a loss for words.

"The Holy Grail. You know, King Arthur's famous magic cup that provided infinite happiness and eternal youth?"

He said it like it was a vast oversimplification of what the grail was, which meant that the next thing I was going to say was probably going to piss him off.

"I... don't know who King Arthur is."

That seemed to stump the aloof Archer, because he leaned away from me and whistled, appraising me all over again as though looking at a particularly interesting bug.

". . .where exactly are we, _right now_." Archer eventually asked, his voice low and apprehensive.

Ok, this one I could answer without having to feel like I should find myself a dunce cap.

"The City of Vale - or the outskirts of it anyway."

"I mean, what _country_ are we in." Archer further explained rolling his eyes at my ignorance.

Which was weird. Because I'd already answered his question. Where else would the City of Vale be except for Vale?

"Vale of course. How old **are** you? I guess if your from before the war then-"

"Stop. Lets try this." he said, now visibly worried by where his line of questioning was taking us.

"What _planet_ is this." he spread his arms as though to indicate the entire world around us.

"The. . . World of Remnant?"

Archer's eyebrow twitched like I'd just said something particularly alien, and I began to have sincere second thoughts about my conclusions as to who this was. Forget an ancient hero spirit, Archer was beginning to seem a lot more like a lost insane asylum patient the more I spoke to him. I started slowly moving away from him in a direction away from my house, hoping that if he followed me I could lose him in the woods and double back to safety.

It turned out that was a really bad idea. As I whirled around to begin my escape I was faced with the dull red glow of a Beowolfs eyes shining at me. It stood all but hidden in the shadow of the forest, only its white lupine mask and burning red eyes visible. My response was instantaneous, as panic flooded my limbs and I quickly leaped to my right, just barely dodging the bipedal wolf like Grimm. The creature had jumped forward, tearing through the air where he'd just been standing and landing on its hands and feet where it skid to a halt pivoted on one leg to once more face me.

No more room in my panic frenzied thoughts to think of Archer - who was almost certainly going to be beset by the same creatures, I blindly sprinted through the woods. The crashing sound of smaller trees simply being charged through was clearly distinguishable behind me and I knew the Beowolf had begun to give chase.

Beowolves were easily the weakest varieties of Grimm. In video game terms they barely registered above minions in most cases. Any competent Huntsman could easily handle a small pack of six to ten of the things.

But I wasn't a competent Huntsman. For lack of a teacher, I was hardly even a competent fighter.

My legs pumped and my lungs burned as I continued my mad dash. I was dimly aware that I hadn't exactly checked what direction I was going, and had to try very hard not to think about whether I'd reach civilization and safety before my legs gave out or my attacker caught me.

 _'Oi. Send me some Prana so I can materialize.'_ the sound of Archer's voice blared in my head. The sound seemingly had no origin and presented more as though my inner monologue had taken on a mind of its own, but somehow I just knew it was Archer speaking to me.

I was too out of breath to even **begin** to formulate an answer and I ended up skidding to a stop then jerking my body to the left in order to make a sharp turn and place a large oak tree between myself and the Beowolf's most recent attack. The beast slammed into the trunk of the tree sending shards of wood and bark everywhere around it.

"I don't. . . know what. . . that is. . ." I panted as I resumed what was probably going to be the last exercise I was ever going to perform in my life. Most of my efforts to achieve the status of 'Huntsman' and activate my aura had been just that - attempts to awaken my aura. Id performed some physical exercise in passing, but for the most part I'd always assumed there wasn't any point to it until I was able to supplement my activities with aura. After all, my sisters were all easily capable of going hand to hand with the creatures of Grimm and they didn't exactly look like they spent all their time pumping iron. Something my old classmates had ribbed me over constantly when I was younger.

 _'Imagine all the nerves endings and pathways that wreath your veins. Gather all your will, your focus, your drive to live. Gather it up and imagine you've got it loaded into a gun. When you've gathered so much it hurts - pull back the hammer, and fire it. Shoot all that energy through those nerve endings.'_

Archer sounded almost apologetic as he provided his explanation and I could almost feel him wince as he finished with

 _'Also, sorry.'_

Deciding that I'd rather listen to the voice in my head than do nothing and die anyway, I did as he told me. It was tough going at first, my focus slipping and fraying anytime I was forced to leap or dodge away from the rampaging monster of Grimm hellbent on my end. But eventually I began to get a feel for it. I could feel the pressure building up in me as I focused, greater and greater until I could hardly breath the sensation was so all consuming.

Then I pulled the trigger, and for the second time since I left the house yesterday, the world went dark for a moment.

But just a moment.

Then the pain started. It was like the magic circle all over again. A heart attack ontop of a seizure that made every nerve ending in my body flare with pain. That wasn't an exaggeration. Every single nerve ending in my body began to pulse in time with my heart, and every single pulse felt like someone was dragging my entire body through broken glass while simultaneously setting me on fire. Part of my haggard mind had thought that Archer was just explaining a method to awaken your own Aura, but this wasn't how Aura worked. Everything I'd ever read about Aura made it seem like a soothing benevolent force. Something that, when it wrapped you for the first time, made you feel like everything was going to be okay.

That's not what this felt like. This felt like I was walking with death itself.

This time the pain didn't so much stop as some part of my mind must have simply decided I didn't need the input anymore. Like my body was a burning house and I'd simply opted to step out onto the sidewalk and watch the proceedings from a safe distance. Vision returned to me and 'I' spoke.

"Well, I'll be damned."

I hadn't said that. It was in my voice, and I'd certainly been aware of my mouth moving - but **I hadn't said that.**

Against my will, my body skidded to a halt and I could _feel_ pressure building again as the channels I'd pushed all that power down began to flare to life. The Beowulf charged towards me, implacable as all the beasts of Grimm were, and contrary to my attempts to force myself to continue running, my arms shot out to either side of me like I was some kind of suicidal stage performer.

"Trace _On_!" my voice spoke again, and suddenly I was chillingly aware of my previous assumption that Archer was in fact some kind of demon.

As 'I' yelled those two short words, a pair of short swords appeared in my outstretched hands. Black and white falchions named Kanshou and Bakuya, though how I knew that I didn't know. I couldn't control my body anymore, and so couldn't even turn my head to examine the deadly weapons before I felt myself rocket toward the oncoming Grimm like I was propelled by a dust explosion. The world blurred around me and 'I' easily ducked under the incoming claw of the leaping Beowolf, neatly using the opening to flick my arm upward, bisecting the creature from groin to shoulder with the dark blade in my right hand. Making use of the explosive charges momentum, 'I' rammed my left shoulder into the torn chest of the Beowolf, sending it rocketing away even as its physical form began to fray and dissolve into the air.

It was over in the blink of an eye. From the initial outburst of pain to the Grimms absolute destruction, it had only been a few moments. 'I' eyed the forest around myself for a few seconds more, surveying for any more threats, before the dreadful burning pressure that'd been building inside of my body suddenly ceased and the pain I'd be hopefully ignoring rushed back in.

I fell to my knees and nearly bit my own tongue off fighting the urge to scream, an action that would definitely attract more Grimm. Beowolves tended to travel in packs. The one Archer. . .I. . . _we_ had just killed could have been a loner, or it could have been a scout. Either way I wasn't willing to gamble on it.

Even if I did feel like I wanted to scream until I blacked out again.

"What. Was. **That.** " I bit out between ragged breaths as the pain began to slowly dull.

 _'I had you open your Magic Circuits. Your lucky, without proper preparation that's usually fatal.'_

What.

 _'You really messed the summoning up by the way. I had to use most of my own Prana to keep that possession going. I apparently don't have a body here so I can only manifest in yours.'_

What.

 _'I'll have to rest for a bit to recuperate Master. Try not to die till I wake up'_

WHAT.

"What!?" I scrambled to my feet and immediately began searching for Archer. I wasn't stupid. I could practically **feel** his shit-eating grin when he was explaining all that to me. I whirled around, looking for the barest hint of Archers red coat in the otherwise green and brown expanse of the forest around me but was quickly brought up short.

"Archer! What the heck is a Magic Circuit!?" I yelled into the forest, no longer heeding my own safety in the wake of my apparent possession and subsequent abandonment by the supposed 'Heroic Spirit'.

I continued like that for several minutes before common sense once more overtook me and I begrudgingly began to trudge home. Several minutes after that I broke out into a cold sweat in the face of a single realization. In the scramble I'd forgotten what time it was. I could probably navigate back to the house eventually - but there was no way I was going to be back in time for breakfast.

I briefly entertained the idea that maybe it wouldn't be so bad. It was a very brief moment.

-ooo-

When I got home nearly an hour later, Bianca was sitting in a small chair on the front deck of the house. She was dressed casually, eschewing the armor and weapons she would typically be loaded down with for a simple pair of jeans, and a plain white turtleneck sweater that was clearly fraying at the bottom where Jasmine had pulled on it one too many times in search of attention. A pair of flip flops adorned her feet and her short white hair was dangling in front of her face obscuring my view of what I knew would be bright blue eyes - a common trait of our family.

She wasn't moving. She wasn't reading. She definitely wasn't sunbathing. No, my sister was just waiting. As I walked up the worn path to the house she shifted ever so slightly to put me in her line of a sight. A gentle smile blossomed on her face as she saw me, and she completed a quick once over of my present state before rising gracefully to her feet and striding forward, easily dragging me into a warm familial hug that I'd stopped being comfortable with the moment puberty had hit.

"Jaune!" she chided me, still holding me close so she could put her chin on my head. "What happened? You left last night and never came home!"

Worry and relief were evident in Bianca's voice as she spoke, clearly happy I was home but distressed by my disappearance - whether or not I had managed to return safely.

"I - I was just out reading Great Great Grandpa's book!" I said, trying to lean away and out of the hug so I could pat my messenger bag for emphasis, and failing miserably at the feeble attempt to slip from my sisters grasp.

"I just fell asleep on a log is all!" I whined, trying to put as much feeling and emphasis into the words as I could.

"Jaune. . ." Bianca said, releasing her grip on me and grabbing me by the shoulders so she could hold me still to examine me. After a few seconds she seemed to nod in approval and I could feel the temperature drop around me as she spoke her next words.

"Your covered in grass stains and bruises. Almost like you were running through the woods and fell down. Is it possible you were **running from something?** "

She made it sound like a question but it really wasn't. She knew something had happened - she was just trying to decide how much she was going to punish me for it.

Her grip on my shoulders tightened until I could hear the bones grinding in their sockets and she lifted me bodily off the ground like I weighed no more than a kitten. Then she whirled around and flung me bodily into the char she had just evacuated. The breath exploded from my body as the impact pushed all the air out of my lungs and flipped the lawn chair onto its back leaving me to face the sky. Before I could catch my breath a foot slammed down next to my head mere inches from making me the 'late' Jaune Arc and Bianca's face came into view above me, still smiling as gently as when I'd first walked up the path.

"What actually happened Jaune?" her voice was sickeningly sweet, and I knew I had to give her something or I was going to be under house arrest doing chores for the rest of my life. I didn't mind doing chores. I found them relaxing and felt they let me contribute to my family of otherwise domestically useless Huntsmen. But that didn't mean I wanted to be confined to my house until school started. I had way too much to do to be locked up for a month.

"There. . . was a Beowolf. In the woods. I had to run for a while to lose it." the temperature around us continued to drop and I felt my sister grow dangerously close to using her semblance before I added;

"It was just one though! A loner! And someone had already hurt it so it wasn't hard to run from!"

All mostly true. Someone had hurt it. That someone was just me. Or Archer I guess. Ugh. This was going to give me a headache fast if I didn't figure out a better way to think about it.

Some of the terrifying pressure Bianca had been releasing receded as I spoke, but I could see she was still pretty pissed at me. Eventually though, she moved her foot from its threatening position by my head and backed up to give me space to get myself upright.

"Dishes, Laundry, and Cooking for the rest of the week. And no more going into the woods!" Bianca barked at me, all pretense of the kind older sister slipping away as the vicious drill sergeant she actually was came to the forefront. It was annoying - and I knew she was giving me a much longer punishment than she usually would just to keep me from sneaking off to work on my Aura at night - but there wasn't anything I could do to argue about it. With our parents gone, the family home was more of a roadhouse for the Arc siblings than it was a home. Only me and Jasmine were there with any regularity. If Bianca - the oldest - hadn't been around to force all of us to sit down for regular meals and pounded some basic responsibilities into me, I'd probably never see most of my family. Or wear clean clothes. Or shower.

Success will do that to you I guess.

Quickly rolling to my knees and picking myself off the ground I sighed and bowed my head in acknowledgement of my punishment. "Um. Are you home all day today sis?" I asked, to late realizing that I probably sounded like I was going to try and shirk my punishment the minute she was out of sight.

Bianca froze instantly, her eyes narrowing as she glared at me, but eventually, she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation.

"No. I have to work - I only stayed home to wait for you."

I flinched at that, knowing that she'd willingly left her team undermanned and probably in danger because she'd been worried about me. At the same time, I was angry. It was always like this. They refused to teach me how to take care of myself, but then constantly guilt tripped me when they had to look after me. They **all** did this. Well. Except Jasmine - but Jasmine had her own ways of getting what she wanted from me.

". . .Sorry." I said, my eyes downcast.

Bianca continued to stare at me, pity and irritation clearly warring in her eyes before she simply shrugged and began to walk past me into the house.

"Your safe. That's all that matters." she said with conviction as she passed me, causing me to wince again as guilt continued to writhe in my stomach. With nothing else impeding me, I quickly fell into step behind her slipping through the door and letting it slam shut behind me just in time to see Bianca disappear up the stairs.

With a grunt that bordered on a moan of pain, I made my way laboriously up the old staircase lined with family photos. When I was younger I used to rearrange them so they weren't in chronological order. It always bothered me that I could see my parents slowly becoming less happy as time went on.

Eventually I made it up the stairs, and trundled to the end of the hall where my room was. Wearily I opened the door and threw off my messenger bag. Closing the door behind me, I stumbled across the piles of unfinished laundry carpeting the floor and dropped onto the edge of my bed. As I began to undo my boots I thought back on how it'd felt when Archer was controlling my body. Not the pain, which I doubted I'd ever be able to forget, but the sense of strength. The feeling as 'I' had charged to battle. And then it hit me. As much as Archer was the one that had been in control - I had been the one to do all that. If not the skill, then I, at the very least, had the potential to wield such strength.

Slowly, without getting up, I began to push power through what Archer had called my 'Magic Circuits'. Only a little at first, because I feared the explosive pain that seemed to go hand in hand with magic usage. But as I focused, I found that where before the pain had been a blinding, all consuming hammer blow, now it was merely a dull ache. It still hurt, and I could feel sweat beading on my brow as I focused. Faster and faster I moved that energy through my circuits until I had reached maximum I felt I was capable of maintaining. The ache was manageable and I sat stock still not sure what to do next.

I was 'moving' the energy around, but it wasn't the same as when Archer had been in control. With Archer it had felt like the energy was filling my body, reinforcing my muscles and bones to increase my performance. It was nothing like how Aura worked. Aura didn't suffuse things so much as surround them. An arm covered in Aura will punch harder, but the muscles aren't actually getting stronger.

Once more I tried to move my energy - what had Archer called it? My Prana around. Only this time, I took the processed energy my circuits spit out and began spreading it through my body as evenly as I could.

It was slow going, and I could tell I was losing a ton of energy in transit, but when I finally stupid up and gingerly reach down to lift my entire, steel bed frame with a single hand I knew I was on to something.

I was nowhere near as strong as Archer had been, and the amount of focus it took to maintain the effect, even imperfectly as I was, meant I could hardly even move while using it - but it was a start.

-ooo-

 **So this idea just sort of occurred to me over the course of a week at work and I wanted to try and write some of it out. I'll either keep it going or shrug it off and move on depending on how you guys feel about it. Hope you enjoyed it!**


	2. Growing Pains

Slowly - more because I felt like I was trying to mentally juggle chainsaws while doing so than because it was heavy - I returned my bed frame to the floor where it belonged. Deciding to continue my experimentation, I began to try and use some of the more basic techniques for manipulating Aura. The thought had already occurred to me multiple times, but while nothing about what I was doing _felt_ like I was using 'Aura', there was a very plausible explanation for that.

Archer seemed honestly surprised when I told him we were in Vale. More like, he didn't even know Vale _existed_. If Archer was really some kind of immortal spirit - and I was definitely beginning to believe _that_ at least - then he might just be so old that his methods for using Aura were completely different than anything I knew. I mean, I could see the people who discovered Aura thinking they were doing 'magic'. Then again, what I know about Aura could fit into a thimble. Huntsmen aren't exactly forthcoming about the secret to their power when talking to the unwashed masses.

Slowly, I allowed the flow of energy I'd been filling my entire body with to taper to a stop, and then began to redirect the Prana to my eyes and nowhere else. With aura, what this should have done was enhance my vision, allowing me to see great distances and perceive objects moving far faster than I would usually be able to. Some Huntsmen specialized in this, fashioning themselves into human artillery towers capable of accurately firing at a target nearly a mile away. My sister, Bianca existed among such specialists. However, when _I_ attempted the feat, instead of enhanced vision I simply felt as though something had placed my eyeballs in a vice grip. I nearly bit my own tongue off choking back a scream, and the pain disturbed my focus so much that I stopped manipulating my Magic Circuits entirely.

Prana no longer flooding my eyes, the pain quickly receded along with the dull ache that accompanied the operation of my Magic Circuits. I panted slightly, bending over to place my hands on my knees for support. I made a mental note to find painkillers somewhere the next time I was in town - I got the feeling this wasn't going to be the last time this happened.

Sighing, I straightened and then moved to glance out the window where I could see Bianca stomping out the front door with that baffling thing she called a 'weapon' slung to her back. I'd seen her build that thing over the course of her own time at Beacon. I'd watched her take it apart, put it back together, fix and upgrade it. There was a point in time where it seemed like every other month she had a new part added to it.

And for the life of me, I couldn't tell what the hell it was besides 'some kind of gun - maybe'. Bianca lovingly called it her 'Cantankerous Device'.

Shaking my head I returned to my practice, now leery of experimenting with anything I had not already experienced to work. I spent the next hour continuing to reinforce my body with Prana before a sudden sense of exhaustion swept over me. After that, try as I might, I simply could not make my Magic Circuits work. Groaning, I threw myself back onto my bed and began to seriously consider my current stable of problems.

First; I could give myself enhanced strength - but couldn't really fight while doing so. Second; I apparently had a finite amount of energy. I wasn't sure If I'd run out just now because of how long I'd been using 'reinforcement', or because I was already drained from Archer's previous expenditure while fighting that Beowolf. Either way, I would have to rest until I was confident I was 'full' and then measure how long I could hold out before running 'out'. It was annoying, but I wasn't a video game character - there was no MP bar hovering in my peripheral vision to let me know how much of the precious resource I had. I could only do my best and feel it out.

Third and probably most importantly of all, I had _no_ idea what I was doing. Archer didn't strike me as the type of guy to happily fall into the role of teacher, and I wasn't keen on giving myself repeated seizures just throwing energy around to see what happened.

I pondered for a moment before settling on a course of action. I could do something about the first and third problems, the second would have to wait until I'd gotten a good rest. Hopefully anyway. Once again I hopped out of bed, searching for my messenger bag. If there was anything that could explain how to use this primitive form of aura it had to be the 'magic book'.

With quick practiced movements, I quickly withdrew the book and began pulling Great Great Grandpas letters out one at a time, until I reached the fifth letter and froze. The old parchment the letter had been written on was torn and wet, leaving portions of the ink running and unreadable. Panicking, I rabidly tore through the bag, pulling the remaining three letters out. Each one was worse off than the last.

"Oh - _come_ _ **ON!**_ " I whined lifting the bag to examine its bottom where it had clearly ended up being dragged through far too much of the foliage during my headlong rush to escape the Beowolf. Dragging myself to the small desk I kept near my bed I dumped all the letters and the book on it, then fell into the sole chair in my room and succinctly began banging my head on the table.

Sometimes, I really feel like the universe is out to get me. Now that I knew it wasn't just a bunch of useless make believe I was hoping to go through the book again, this time with an eye towards the practical applications of 'magic' instead of just skimming it for 'something cool to try'.

I absently cursed my short sightedness in not writing down the key somewhere before rushing out to perform the ritual. I could probably still fumble my way to writing the key out, but it would be significantly harder this time around, and time was something I had precious little of as it was.

Exhaustion filled me and with a last forlorn glance at my most recent setback, I shucked off my sweater and jeans before falling into the welcoming embrace of my bed.

-ooo-

 _I dreamt of endless conflict._

 _I saw a man marching across an unending string of battles. Crisis after crisis the man strode through, each step he took taking him to a new battlefield._

 _Not all his battles were conflicts of war. Revolts. Epidemics. Experiments and Creatures so foul my mind could hardly grasp them. I felt exhausted just watching the procession. But he, the man in red, he simply moved forward without fear or regret. When there was no hope - he would appear. When no one was left to fight, he would arrive._

 _But he was always alone._

 _The only constant in his life was battle. The only worthwhile memories, his blades. The peaceful times - delicious meals and pleasant nights spent reading. The warmth of a family, the reassurance of friends. These things had no meaning to him. The only thing that mattered was the mission. Nothing was more important._

 _Not even him._

-ooo-

I stared down at the kid who'd summon me with conflicted feelings. There was no doubt that he'd summoned me - but too much of this was different from how it was supposed to be. For one thing, now that I'd had the chance to examine him, I realized that the kid didn't appear to have Command Seals.

Command Seals are a Masters greatest resource. Allowing them to call their Servant to their side at a moments notice, force their Servant to perform tasks they usually wouldn't, and push their Servant to perform nearly impossible feats.

And he didn't have any. He effectively had no control over me. If this was the Grail War I'd fought in thousands of times, across a thousand iterations of the earth, I'd have been extremely pleased with this development.

The problem was, this _wasn't_ the Fuyuki City Grail War. In fact, I wasn't even sure this was a Grail War. Oh I wouldn't tell the kid that- no, he was going to get the worst possible version of the truth that I could come up with.

But that didn't change the fact that I really _should_ know what was going on. Not just because I have experience with this type of thing. Not even because I'd pledged my very soul to the ugly side of making sure the human race didn't erase itself from the planet.

No, what was worrying me is that I didn't know _anything_ about this world. When a Servant is summoned, we aren't just dropped into the middle of an unfamiliar situation. It wouldn't do for the heroes of old to mistake a car for a monster and demolish some suburban families sedan after all. Servants are provided with all the basic information they need to get by in the era they are summoned. We get a free pass on things like 'common knowledge'.

I drifted towards the half open window of the small bedroom I was in and stared up at the moon of this world. It was late evening now, and the sun had just begun to fade over the horizon, and I frowned up at the moon like it was the source of all my confusion. Still only dimly visible in the fading daylight the improved vision of the Archer class made it trivial to pick out every crack and pockmark in the celestial bodies surface. About a third of the moon appeared to have been torn asunder, ripped from it as though a cosmic giant had been mining it. The huge floating rocks seemed to always remain in position relative to each other, held in place by the moons own gravity, preventing them from plummeting to the earth below.

So why the hell didn't I know what had happened to it? Sure I could guess. Even before I'd ascended to the Throne of Heroes I'd been aware of beings with enough power to easily cause that kind of damage. But they existed in balance with one another. Their very predatory nature meant they would always be unwilling to visit cataclysmic damage on the earth and its environs for fear of opening themselves to attack from some other supernatural predator.

More than just that, I didn't know what city I was in. I didn't know what _country_ I was in. I wasn't even blessed with the simple knowledge of whether or not there even _was_ a Grail. My only saving grace was that, at the very least, I seemed able to speak the language here.

This kid, who had never told me his name, who should not have been able to summon me using that ritual and _closed_ Magic Circuits, and who was clearly in over his head - was quite possibly the weakest magus I had ever encountered.

Well no, I thought back on my own past and corrected myself. The _second_ weakest Magus I had ever encountered.

Then another thought occurred to me and I wasn't sure if it gave me hope or left me terrified. If there _was_ a Greater Grail somewhere in this world, with all the differences between Remnant and Earth, was it still corrupted or would it work as intended?

-ooo-

I woke to the sound of something horrible trying to break down my door and drag me away. The house was old and the door had not seen any maintenance in some time - so even as the horrible being on the other side continued to batter at my feeble defenses the wood rattled and the doorknob shook. I considered the window but realized that I would just break my leg jumping out and be in an even worse position than I was now. Maybe I could-

"Jaune! I'm hungry and Bianca's not home yet!" bellowed the petulant voice of my little sister Jasmine from the hallway outside my room. I groaned and covered my head with a pillow to try to drown out the noise. I was so tired I started to eye the window speculatively and consider how recovered I was from my previous attempts at using magic to 'reinforce' myself.

Moving too quickly for me to put thought into action Jasmine exploded into the room. I knew she was only really knocking to be polite but was still annoyed when she entered uninvited. None of the Arc siblings rooms had locks on them - my parents had learned early on that raising a family of Aura capable Huntsmen meant having to make concessions so as to prevent a tantrum from damaging a door frame. My sisters had grown accustomed to working their way around each other as they all tried to cram their way into one of the two bathrooms in the house. That hadn't really changed when I'd been born, even if I _was_ forced to wait for everyone else to finish before Dad or I could reach own toiletries.

Clothing on the floor by the door was launched away by the force of its opening, and Jasmine charged up to my bed like the intervening obstacles of the average teenage boys room were entirely absent. I winced - both at the noise she made as she approached, and at all the damage she was probably doing to my things as she moved.

As she halted at the foot of my bed I already knew what was coming next. She bent over in a weight lifters pose and firmly placed both her pale little hands on the bottom of the bed frame. Her baggy jeans and too large t-shirt made it look almost comical when she started counting down at me threateningly.

"Three."

I began scrambling for purchase amidst my sheets in order to escape my bed and appease my hungry sibling but froze when I noticed Archer leaning on the wall behind her nearest my closet. He had a pensive look on his face that smoothed into a blank emotionless visage as he noticed me looking at him. He also seemed entirely unconcerned with my sister's presence.

 _'Do you know who the Kaleidoscope is?'_ he asked sounding significantly more serious than he had when we'd first met, more serious even than when I'd been fleeing the Beowolf in the woods.

"I - what? who the - wait! Jazz just wait a sec I'll get up I swear!" I said, unsure of which of the two I should address first, and not sure why Jasmine was ignoring his presence.

"Two!"

Archer stared out the window for a few more moments before seeming to realize my predicament, glancing owlishly between myself and my sister as though he'd only just realized she existed. He shifted forward until he was standing directly behind her. His arms came down to either side of him in a pose I was now passingly familoar with.

Then, at the exact same time as my sister yelled; "One!"

He said; "Do you want me to get rid of the munchkin, Master?"

"No!" I screeched, and my voice reached an octave that I'm sure could have shattered glass had I been facing the window.

My sister seemed not to take kindly to my sudden refusal and with very little effort she howled "Get. UP!" - then summarily lifted my entire bed and, turning it, launched me onto the floor adjacent like one might toss a fresh pancake out of a pan.

"Jaaazzzz." I groaned reaching out to place my hands on the floor, then pushing myself up so I was once more facing my youngest sister.

"Jaune" she said cutely, then tucking a stray strand of her boyish mop of yellow hair behind her ear said, "I'm hungry."

She said it with absolutely no sign of the monster that had me dead to rights mere moments before. The switch from petulant and demanding to sweet and innoccent would have been jarring if I didn't know my sister so well.

Bianca's 'calm' expression was always infused with a barely contained fury. I knew she was mad because she stopped _acting_ mad. She used the serene outer expression to control her temper, and that was what made it such a feared sight for us Arc siblings growing up.

Jasmine though, was't like that. The youngest of us, she had always been exceptional smart for her age. She was far and away the most reasonable child I'd ever encountered, easily able to recognize social qeues and tension that would have gone over another kids head. She was never selfish, and never asked for anything.

Except with me.

The truth that the rest of my family failed to grasp was, that for all her brilliance, Jasmine was _still_ _a child_. She wanted to be spoiled, and be praised for things normal kids do. Maybe it was because we were the youngest Arc's, but Jasmine and I had always understood one another. She _understood_ why I was so desperate, and I, in turn, understood how lonely she was.

All that to say, Jasmine was ruthlessly honest and selfish when we were alone together.

Shooting a glare at Archer, who was clearly trying to decide between smirking at me and outright laughing, I said; "Just...just let me put some clothes on Jazz."

I gestured down at my boxer shorts to emphasize my point.

Glancing at the spot behind her that I'd been glaring at, Jasmine turned back to me with a quizzical look on her face. I thought about trying to explain my predicament to her, but since even _I_ could hardly believe it, I simply shrugged and started getting up to dress myself.

Besides - what would the short form of this sound like anyway? _'Sorry Jazz, the invisible man asked if he should kill you'_.

Yeah that would go over great.

Jasmine, bless her heart, opted not to follow up on the abnormality. I had no doubt she had taken note of it, but if I was lucky she would just file it away as just another weird thing her weird brother did.

"I have to go to bed soon you know." She reminded me as she turned to leave the room, closing the door gently behind her. She wasn't supposed to stay up late on a school night, but she also wasn't supposed to go to bed hungry. The message was clear: she either got to stay up late or satisfy her hunger.

Remembering Archer while getting dressed, I whirled toward him letting my a sweatshirt fall into place as I turned.

"And you! What the hell was that!? She's my sister - not a damn Grimm!" I hissed, doing my best to get across my ire without yelling loud enough to be heard outside the room.

Archer just rolled his eyes at me, swiping his arm _through_ my closet door.

"Relax. No body remember?"

In response I could only close my eyes and count backwards from ten. Archer ws annoying. Not much more aggravating than some of my old classmates true, but his unique position as both 'My best chance at getting into Beacon' and 'The weirdest thing I had ever encountered' made his attempts to needle me especially effective.

Once I had finished counting I quietly said; "Just...don't talk to me in front of people. Please. I don't want to look crazy".

 _'You know all you have to do is think at me to communicate, right?'_ The sound of his voice came from all directions at once, both a yell and a whisper. I was looking directly at him and his mouth didn't move an inch while he spoke.

I think he must have realized at that point that I was trying to kill him with force of will alone, because the smug smile was back again. Realizing that arguing was pointless, I instead began bombarding Archer with questions.

 _'Can you teach me more magic? Can you teach me the thing that made the swords? Or is that your Semblance. How old are you?'_

Archers eyebrows rose slightly with every question asked, until they could rise no further. His hands came up in the universal gesture for stop and I realized belatedly that I had him on the back foot for once.

"I have some questions of my own." Archer said, looking at me warily.

"Lets trade then. We each ask one question. I have to cook anyway." I said, and Archer visibly relaxed as my fervor died down. Not that I wasn't still chomping at the bit. But even I wasn't incompetent enough to be unable to talk and cook at once.

"Fine. What happened to the moon?"

The strange question didn't even surprise me at this point. From what I could tell, Archer literally didn't know _anything_ about Remnant. To call him ignorant would be an understatement. I opened the door and began traveling down the stairs as I 'spoke'.

 _'I don't know. No one knows.'_ And that was the truth. No one alive on Remnant today knew how the moon had gotten so damaged. It was definitely a mystery - it just wasn't one people had the resources to look into. It's not like we could go to the moon and investigate.

The trip down the stairs was quiet as Archer contemplated what I'd said, and I considered what question I wanted to ask. It didn't take a genius to realize that the moment Archer stopped having questions was going to be the moment he stopped answering mine.

 _'Can - no._ _ **Will**_ _you teach me Magic?'_ I said, pausing to make sure I I didn't make any obvious mistakes in my phrasing. It might be paranoid, but something told me if I hadn't then his answer would have been something along the lines of 'I could but I won't'.

By this time I had made my way past the family dining room and into the kitchen beyond. It was a fair sized room, with just the right number of amenities to be considered 'modern' but not anything so advanced as to be out of place. I flicked the light on and began preparing ingredients while I waited for Archer to answer me.

"I can only teach you the basics. Reinforcement, Structural Analysis -"

 _'And Tracing?'_

I'd asked the question mostly on a hunch, having remembered Archers words when he had first produced those twin falchions what felt like ages ago now, even if it was a time best measured in hours.

"No." he answered flatly before continuing. "Reinforcement and Structural Analysis. Just those."

 _'Because they're for beginners?'_

"Because they're all I know." Archer's voice carried a hint of irritation that I took to mean I should let the topic drop - which I did, despite thinking that 'Structural Analysis' didn't sound very magical.

I set a pot of water to boiling on the stove then moved to begin chopping vegetables.

"What was that thing yesterday? And why don't you seem perturbed by it at all."

That brought me up short, causing me to forget my food preparations and turn to Archer in confusion.

"You don't know what _**Grimm**_ are." I didn't phrase it as a question and I didn't remember to say it in my head either. The idea of someone not knowing what the Grimm were was akin to not knowing that water is wet. It was preposterous.

"No. Answer the question."

I stared at him for a couple more seconds before returning to my preparations, pausing to dump two fistfuls of pasta into the pot.

 _'The Grimm are monsters. They're drawn to, or I guess, spawn from negative feelings. They can appear anywhere, at any time.'_

There was a pregnant pause before I continued.

 _'They're the major reason that more effort isn't made to expand.'_

Something seemed to click for Archer, and understanding flitted across his features.

"The city, the country - they share a name because there's nowhere else to live."

I nodded in confirmation, setting another pot on the stove and waiting for it to heat before pouring some milk into it then slowly began mixing in the cheese I'd previously grated. There were alot of questions I wanted to ask. Things that could help me get stronger. Things that could help me sort out Archer as a person. Instead, I chose to ask something that had been bothering me since I woke up. Something I should have paid more attention to the minute I realized all this magic stuff was real.

 _'You mentioned a... Grail War?'_ I tried to say it the same way Archer had, with an emphasis on the word 'Grail' with a capital G.

Archer's face grew dour at that but he scratched his head in resignation and slowly began to explain.

"It's like I said. Seven Servants. Seven Masters. It's basically one giant battle royale, with the sole survivor getting the grail. But-" he raised his right arm into the air, finger and thumb out in an L shape while his left hand comfortably cupped his right elbow.

"- you have to understand what the Grail _is_ to understand how bad the situation is for you right now Jaune. It grants any wish. Anything. You could wish for all the Grimm to go away forever and you'd get it."

I froze in place, the pot nearest me beginning to boil over. Excitement filled me and before I could turn to ask anything Archer resumed his lecture.

"You could also wish for infinite wealth. Seventy-two virgins. To be the ruler of the world. To wield ultimate power. Jaune you have to understand - I have _died_. You are speaking to a dead man, and that's only part of the _preparation_ to perform this ritual. Ask yourself this. You consider yourself a good man - but what wouldn't you do for that kind of power?"

'Nothing.'

The thought was instantaneous, and I reeled back from it internally like I'd just found a snake in my couch cushions. If you had ultimate power, then ultimately, you could do anything you wanted to achieve it. I could kill all my sisters in their sleep and simply bring them back when I won.

That was, If I won.

The reasoning was horrible. It was a terrible, monstrous way of looking at the world, and when faced with it my first instinct had been stark acceptance. Once my rational mind reasserted itself, obviously, I would never choose to hurt my family - no matter what the pay off would be. But was that true of the other Masters? Was it even true of _me_? Forget my family - would I have any qualms doing the unspeakable to a complete stranger for god like power?

I shivered as the answer came to me. I was raised too well, by parents who had given up everything for the protection of Vale to easily accept such thinking. But only just barely. And if I was willing to consider it, then that meant there were six other people in the world, right now, who may or may not have any qualm destroying all of Vale just to see me dead.

Archer seemed to see my my sudden understanding of the greater situation and nodded in approval. I guess he assumed I would ignore him, or try to avoid the whole thing - and really, I probably _would_ make that attempt - but that didn't mean I was too stupid to understand the ramifications of the situation.

Suddenly, I felt much more inclined to take my parent's advice and avoid conflict altogether. But choosing not to learn how to protect myself didn't mean I wouldn't have to - it just meant I wouldn't be able to. Quite abruptly I found the path I'd started on, my drive not to be the only Arc that didn't grace the battlefield, seemed so much smaller and less important than simply surviving.

"Are you just going to ignore that?" Archer finally said - pointing to the pot that was now spewing boiling water out onto the stovetop like an exploding volcano. The pot was so slick with the burning liquid that even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have been able to shift it. Not without hurting myself. I could use oven mitts, but the fabric wouldn't protect me from the hot water for long.

No, in what was probably the perfect metaphor for my life right now, the situation was absolutely, and utterly, outside my control.

-ooo-

 **Authors Note:**

 **So to address some concerns. I don't really intend on Jaune just being junior Archer, or having Archer doing all the heavy lifted. My goal with Jaune and his use of Magic is for him still to be the awkward kid with barely any understanding of how things are supposed to work, but instead of it being because he's the excuse for the audience to receive an explanation, I want it to be because he assumes that Magic is just Aura and that the two have similar applications - which is fundamentally not true. Jaune will likely end up being more useful than he is in the canon by the time he makes his way to Beacon, but I'm not shooting for him to be OP, since I think a major part of Jaunes character is being the guy with shit luck. I think the trope is referred to as being the 'Butt-Monkey'. I tend to refer to this type of character as the why-guy, as in 'why is this happening to me'.**

 **Meanwhile, Archer. Archer is a weird guy to write because, despite his absolutely tragic backstory, he doesn't really seem all that sad or put out most of the time. I think a part of that here is that his usual stated goal in the war IE: fuck up Shirou, is kind of impossible presently.**

 **I didn't get a lot of time to proof this chapter for odd sounding sentences and grammar so I welcome corrections and critiques, since I'm trying a first-person thing here, and there's a lot more narrative filigree than my other fic, I can definitely see how it's easy to make mistakes.**


	3. An Unpleasant Apprenticeship

'So your just going to waste all this food then.' Archer said with something approaching genuine dismay in his otherwise snarky voice.

'...Probably?' I answered forlornly. In truth I could grab a bunch of hand towels and try to move the pot. Or turn the stove down. Or put a wooden spoon over the pot.

But really, I had just been told I had unwittingly invited myself to a seven way death match over a magical wish. I was hopelessly behind on a normal day, so I didn't rate my odds of surviving this 'Grail War' very highly.

'Let me do it.' Archer said, affecting a helpful tone. For a moment I thought I almost caught a tinge of desperate hope in the statement - but no, probably just my imagination. Nothing about Archer really said 'domestic' to me.

Although, going back to my earliest belief that he was a demon, it _did_ sound like an excellent excuse to take over my body.

'Isn't that a really trivial use of your power?' I asked him suspiciously, still eyeing the pot as it frothed and sent burning hot water all over the stove top. To his credit, Archer stopped to consider the statement for a moment before disregarding my concerns.

'It's fine.' He said simply.

'The last time we did this it felt like I was going to die.' I pointed out, still not willing to let it go.

'I had to use your brand new magic circuits to perform Magecraft at a level you will probably never achieve. That's like using a broken hand to perform calligraphy while someone tries to kill you.'

'Isn't that dangerous?' I asked suddenly dismayed by the apparent risks.

Archer entered my field of view as I stared at the pot, shrugging as one hand absently swiped through stove top. Annoyance crossed his face as his intangibility was demonstrated again.

'You would have died anyway. Look, its safe as long as I don't use any magic.' He said, neatly evading a description of exactly what could have gone wrong the last time he possessed me.

'Look I'll teach you about Magecraft while I cook.' He said, now obviously desperate.

I looked up from the pot and my self pity long enough to stare at him and blink once. Could he...?

'Do you... _like_ cooking?' I finally said, though I phrased it more as a statement then a question. Instead of answering me he grit his teeth and squinted at me, like he was trying to kill me with his mind.

Which was confirmation enough for me.

I gathered up my 'prana' as Archer had called it, dredging up all my frustrations and fears, my desires and wishes. Instead of immediately forming the image of a guns hammer crashing down I eyed him one final time.

'And you'll teach me magic?'

'Magecraft. And yes.' He acknowledged begrudgingly.

Quickly I started to form the image of a guns hammer, then paused. Something - some instinct I hadn't had the chance to really consider previously, told me that this wasn't the ideal image for me. It would work but it wasn't _right_. So I stopped, took a deep breath and started over. The image of a scabbard, shining and resplendent filled my mind, and with a rush of power the cold rasp of steel being drawn heralded the rush of 'prana' as I shunted it towards Archer.

But it wasn't really Archer, because Archer wasn't real. He didn't have a body to target. It was more like the energy turned a corner in my mind and disappeared, and from behind that corner lay the man who had forged a billion blades.

Which was a weird, weird appellation to add to someone I didn't know.

Without warning, my body began to move on it's own. No longer terrified for my life I mentally groped around, examining my new state of being. A few things were immediately apparent. For one, I could feel everything still. It didn't really feel like I was possessed because I didn't really feel like there was something else in my body with me. It felt more like I was a puppet hanging from strings no one could see, being gracefully conducted about the stage of life by a master puppeteer.

'This is really weird.' I opined, the novelty of having an autopilot for cooking temporarily shelving my crippling fear of death by crazy wizard.

"The circumstances are fairly outlandish I'll grant that." Archer responded to me with my own voice. It was supremely creepy, and more importantly, would probably sound really weird to anyone listening. But then again, pretty much the only person home was Jasmine, and as a younger sister often forced to do the dishes I knew for a fact that she'd stay as far away from the kitchen as possible before dinner was ready.

'So this isn't a normal thing?' I asked. I kind of figured as much but it was still worth clarifying.

"Not even a little bit. It's happened - at most - once before this. Ever." Archer supplied, even as he hummed a tune I'd never heard before. He deftly shunted the overflowing pot off the burning element and set to work doing things with the vegetables and some things he pulled off the spice rack that I would easily have classified as Magecraft if I wasn't feeling everything he did myself.

'So... Magecraft?' I prompted while he cooked. I could have kept asking about how the whole... magical super hero thing worked, but I was drastically more interested in my own advancement now that I had access to a - sort of - teacher. Archer ignored the question for a moment, chopping and mixing ingredients. The clock on the wall ticked audibly. I tried to be patient. I really did. But being this close to something... something _tangible_. Something I could actually _do_. Something I _knew_ could work for me had blown past all my other doubts. Before I could 'voice' my ardor though Archer began to speak.

"Magecraft is the process of causing a possible effect using supernatural means." He intoned, for all the world sounding like he was explaining addition and subtraction to a child.

'No duh. You literally just said magic is doing things with magic.' I whined.

"Your missing the point. And its Magecraft. They're different. It's fine for just some passerby to make that mistake, but if you want to be a Magus, you have to get it right."

'Okay so what am I missing then?' I knew without a shadow of a doubt in my mind that he was drawing this explanation out just to fuck with me, and it was trying my patience greatly not to snap at him.

"Magecraft can't do the impossible. It's literally just a different way to achieve something that's already possible. You can't bring back the dead with it, because no technology exists in this world that does that already." he paused for a moment in thought.

"Does it?" he added, questioningly.

'I doubt it. Seems like something that would have come up on the news at some point if someone had a semblance like that.' I said, trying to shrug but remembering that I had no control of my body at that moment. Archer grunted, adding more water to the pot and returning it to the stove then stepping away to search the rest of the kitchen.

'So... Magecraft is just... skipping the steps you usually have to do to achieve something?' I threw out, trying to understand and get confirmation.

"If that's how you have to think about it kid." Archer said dryly. I let it go because I pretty much _did_ have to think about it that way or it wouldn't make any sense to me. Not that I would admit that to Archer. Smug jerk.

'Wait, you said Magecraft _couldn't bring back the dead._ But your literally making me dinner right now.' starting to wonder if Archer was just fucking with me.

"The Grail is part of a ritual to perform one of the True Magics. The Heaven's Feel."

'What the hell does _that_ mean?' I complained. Archer stopped what he was doing to look up, and I could immediately tell he was trying to scowl at me without being able to see me. I thought that would be it but he flicked the oven to turn the stove down and stomped over to the sink so I could see my own reflection while he scowled at me.

"Magic is different than Magecraft. If Magecraft is doing the possible using different means, then Magic is doing the impossible via those same means. True Magics are harder to do, more complicated, and basically impossible for any human alive to really replicate without going to insane lengths.

"Think about it. The grail grants literally any wish Jaune. We just went over this. Summoning legendary dead people isn't even the point of the ritual - it's just a component required to finish it. That's how complicated it is." Archer finished, ending his moment of scowling into every reflective surface he could find and returning to the stove to dump all of the vegetables and spices into the pot.

'Hey throw me a bone okay? I didn't know any of this yesterday. How does _anyone_ even know this if its so complicated?'

"Beats me kid." Archer shrugged for me.

'Sooooo. Spells?' I said hopeful we were done the boring theory stuff.

"After dinner." Archer said knowingly.

Dick.

Eventually Archer swept into the dining room, expertly placing knives and forks at all the dining locations and doling out platefuls of pasta so expertly made it almost hid how I'd nearly completely destroyed the ingredients.

Almost.

'Don't bother.' I said, stopping Archer from setting out a third plateful of food and he halted to blink owlishly down at the table in confusion.

'None of my family is ever home except me and Jas.' I supplied, trying to hide my general sadness over that fact but evidently failing horribly at it.

"...Sorry." Archer apologized, for once managing not to sound like a smug jerk about it. He sounded like he really meant it, and it took me a moment to realize why.

'They're not dead!' I yelled, appalled at the thought.

"Then why - " Archer started, sounding almost affronted.

'They're Hunters. They're out hunting Grimm.'

"All the time?" he questioned pointedly. I didn't answer, not wanting to start on this subject with the complete stranger who's soul was apparently going to be stapled to mine until I died - probably in the next couple days knowing my luck. After some time passed and he realized I wasn't going to say anything more on the subject, Archer shrugged again - and suddenly I found myself back in control of my body. There was some pain still, a dull ache that I couldn't decide on the origin of. It could be soreness from my previous days exertions, but the pain felt too fresh.

I'd blame Archer for it regardless I suppose.

Stumbling a little, I regained my balanced and straightened, returning the pot of food to the kitchen so Bianca could have some when she came home.

"Jas!" I hollered up the stairs. "Dinners ready!"

"Coming!" came her enthusiastic call from above me. Nodding I took a seat at the table and waited for her.

When she eventually flung herself from the top of the stairwell down to the main floor, it was in a display of superhuman strength and dexterity. Normally I'd have to my jealousy at such an act. Instead Jasmine turned towards the kitchen and froze, seeing me tapping a finger on the table, waiting for her so I could eat.

She eyed the steaming plate of delicious looking food suspiciously as she sat, taking her fork up and poking at it in that vaguely insulting way only children can manage.

"You know cooking this good isn't going to make Bianca _un-_ ground you Jaune." She pointed out helpfully after taking a bite. The tone was dangerously close to her serious voice - the decidedly unchild like way she spoke when around other people.

 **Other** people. Never me.

I cast a worried look her way and she quickly returned to acting like the bubbly kid she actually was. Squealing in unadulterated delight the moment the food touched her tongue. She actually paused for a moment to stare down at the food, looking back and forth between it and me like she was thinking about something of great importance.

"You know Jauney once I'm a Huntress I wouldn't mind taking you with me." she said, turning her face upwards towards me and blinking cutely. I snorted. This wasn't the first or last time one of my sisters had offered to keep me on as support staff. It wasn't so much that I was particularly good at cooking or cleaning. I was simply extremely familiar with them and had enough free time to make use of that knowledge. Jasmine loved pasta, hated vegetables, and begrudgingly allowed the two to be combined only in the event that cheese was somehow involved. Bianca wasn't overly picky but with regards to household matters she was utilitarian and even somewhat picky. If I didn't press and clean her clothes for her she'd probably spend one hundred percent of her time in her combat uniform. More than that, they were my sisters. I knew all of their equipment and tendencies better than anyone else. With me around my Mom, Dad, and Sisters never really had to worry about anything else but hunting grimm.

And I hated them for that a bit. Not because I thought that was the only reason they refused to unlock my aura or train me to fight. I would never believe my family was that... selfish. It just... rankled a bit. Made every kind gesture or request sting.

Jasmine was the only exception to the rule. She wheedled me to do things for her as much as anyone else, but she was a Huntress. She was still just a kid in prep school. An insanely skilled, dedicated, kid - but still a kid. Jasmine just didn't have the same casual disregard for anything but the job that my other family had, so her requests always seemed more akin to a little sister swearing she'll marry her big brother without knowing any better than they did attempts at a convenient servant.

I hoped that didn't change when she got older.

"Jaune?" Jasmine asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

"Huh? Oh. Come on Jas you know I'm not the house husband type. If I come somewhere with you I wont just be a supporter. I'm gonna be a Hunstman too. You'll see." I don't know why but at my words Jasmine visibly flinched.

"Yeah but... your really _good_ at cooking!" Jasmine crooned happily. "This like the best pasta I've ever eaten!"

I squinted at her when she said that, still not having taken a bite of it while we talked. Then I looked past Jasmine to where Archer hovered against one wall - smirking for all the world like the cat that got the canary.

"It- It's not _that_ good." I complained, before letting the context of her statement sink in. Jasmine had implied I be a chef because I was good at it. Which inversely implied I shouldn't be a Huntsman because I _wasn't_ good at that? My nostrils flared as I inhaled strongly to calm my rising aggravation. Then I refocused my gaze on Jasmine ready to let the moment past only for the genial smile and snide comment to slip from me.

Jasmine was tearing up looking at me, no longer happily slurping on her pasta.

"I don't wan't you to go away." She whispered forlornly.

"Who said I was going anywhere squirt?" I shot back, not unkindly.

"Everyone!" she roared at me, making me lean away from her in surprise. "Everyone says that your not cut out for it Jaune! You wanna know what everyone talked about when last time they were here?!"

The last time my whole family was together would have been my most recent birthday - when I had turned 17. It had been nice. They'd managed not to needle me about never being a Huntsman, and I'd managed not to blow up at anybody or ask someone to unlock my aura, like I had the previous year for my birthday.

"When you went to sleep, Mom, Dad, Bianca, Rose - _everyone_ got together to talk about ways they could make sure you didn't die! Rosemary considered _crippling you_ because she was positive no Huntsman academy would accept someone in a wheel chair!" Jasmine wailed at me, her food forgotten and her fork dropped sloppily on the table, sending bits of pasta sauce across the table top.

"Jas I - " I broke off as my voice cracked. I could remember the moment that decision had been vetoed now that I had context. That night when I'd been laying in bed after a hard fought night with no arguments are disagreements, Rosemary had silently crept into my room. Rose was the second oldest Arc sibling and I had no idea where she spent most of her time. She had always been a sort of extremist version of Bianca, always believing the ends justified the means.

Which was why I could believe that the minute and a half she'd spent looming over me in my bed when she thought I was asleep was something a bit more sinister than just checking in on the kid brother she didn't get to see much of.

"I can't." I said finally, my voice firming up as I darted another glance at Archer in the corner. He seemed... well not surprised. Resigned I guess would be the word. Like he'd seen worse and would see it again.

Jasmine didn't bother to answer me, shoving herself out of her chair so fast that it was flung to the ground, and then bolted out of the room and up the stairs - far faster than someone without aura could ever hope to achieve. I stared after her, the mixture of sadness and impotent rage making my eyes hurt in what I knew was probably the prelude to tears. My gaze fell to Jasmines bowl, where she had managed to pick her way around most of the vegetables to only eat the pasta.

Mechanically I lifted my first bite of the cooling food to my mouth, and was unsurprised to find it tasted genuinely amazing.

"Damn it." I whispered hoarsely. Archer didn't bother to reply, apparently having enough tact not to needle me at that exact moment. Which was good, because I would have probably immediately started trying to exorcise him.

-ooo-

A few minutes, several dishes, and one lunchbox of pasta for Bianca later, and I was back in my room staring at my great gandpappy Arcs magic book.

"So. Magic. Magecraft. Whatever." I spoke tiredly into the empty space of the room. Archer appeared a moment later, literally materializing from nowhere like a ghost.

"You better not have been poking through my sisters underwear drawers you weirdo." I warned, the barb coming almost without thought. I didn't really think Archer was doing anything of the sort, but it was true that I didn't know where he was while I was cleaning - and I wanted to make sure we both knew I was aware of that discrepancy.

"Relax Jauney boy. I was trying to find another one of those Grimm things in the area. I take it they aren't all that common here?" Archer answered, rolling his eyes like he was humoring a child. Which, for a supposedly ancient hero spirit - might be true.

I didn't bother to answer him this time. Just looking at him with a bored expression until he had all the snark out of his system and got back on task. Archer waited for a moment as though expected some other response, but I was just too damn tired for this right now. I didn't need a ghost with lip. I needed some hope. I needed to see some more of the light at the end of the tunnel I'd entered when I summoned Archer. I needed _one thing_ in my life to turn out better than I expected.

"Fine." Archer sighed, appearing to accept my silence for what it was. He scratched the back of his head with an immaterial hand like he wasn't used to caring about other peoples feelings.

"First off, how familiar are you with your bodies makeup? Biology I mean." he said.

"Well enough I guess? I know about how muscles and ligaments and things like that work." I shrugged. I wouldn't bother explaining that I had done research on the subject when I was still trying to find some kind of insane acupuncture technique to unlock my aura.

"Good. So Reinforcement is simple. Gather up your Prana and then circulate it through your body. The more detailed you can make the image the better." Archer intoned, posing like a schoolmarm. "Your skin. Your muscles. Your bones. Your organs. - In that order. Do them one at a time, not all at once. Don't move on until your positive you've got each step right."

I blinked once. That was probably the least mysterious, most explicit explanation of anything _useful_ I had ever received from Archer.

"Why exactly in that order? Besides the obvious theme of working inward." I asked curiously. Archer rolled his eyes again, then glanced around the room until his eyes alighted on my desk.

"Try to reinforce that pencil." He said imperiously.

I did so, cautiously swiping it off the table, then gathering up my Prana. It took less than a minute for the pencil to spontaneously _explode._ There was no sound. Barely any propulsion to the fragments of graphite and wood. The object in my hand simply imploded, sending shards of pencil up in a dense spray across my room. I barely had time to cover my eyes before it happened.

"What the fuck was _that_?!" I growled, shaking debris off myself.

"What happens when you fuck up reinforcement." Archer said matter-of-factly. I blanched.

"So..."

"I organized it in order of lethality." Archer nodded, confirming my suspicions. When I didn't immediately move or try to do anything he had previously bade me to do Archers shrugged shifting to hover in front of where I sat on my bed.

"To be a Magus is - "

"To walk with death." I finished for him. I'd read it in what parts of the old book I'd been able to decipher, and it had been one of the first things I'd thought when I'd originally used magecraft for the first time. Suddenly I really _did_ understand the sentiment. I was a cavemen trying to build a dust engine with explosive material.

Then my early experience lifting my bed slammed into me and I started shaking, now more than ever aware of the danger I had been in trying to half ass this. My heart hammered in my chest, in either excitement or fear - I couldn't quite tell the difference at that moment.

Jasmines words from dinner that night came back to me. ' _Everyone says your not cut out for it.'_

Oh Jasmine. You should have known better. I'm an Arc - how could I **not** rise to that challenge?

I charged my Prana, and pretended I could sense the individual parts of my body. Like the close up of a camera I imagined every individual pore on my body, every scar, every pockmark and my skin. I kept the image firmly in mind. I held to it like a mother to her newborn child. But I didn't pull the trigger - I didn't draw my blade and release the energy coursing through me. I simply held on to the image. After a while - I don't know how long - when I could call that image up at a whim, exactly as I had first seen it, perfectly and on a whim, I let loose.

Previously when I had used Magecraft, it had hurt. At first a little, but afterwards gradually, less and less, until it was merely a dull ache, like a sore muscle.

This didn't feel like that. It didn't hurt. It was different, like molten lava coursing through channels in my body I had never previously known about. I opened my eyes, feeling that energy course through me. I expected to see some change in my surroundings. Maybe some gentle glowing or something, just so I could confirm it had worked.

"Not bad. You don't really have a lot of Od, but for some reason you're recovering way faster than you should be. How do you feel?" Archer quipped curiously.

"Constipated." I bit out "What the fuck is Od." I added after a moment. It wasn't that I didn't immediately notice the new term, but more that the mental effort of keeping this energy flowing properly - seemingly to no effect - was taxing on my focus.

"You'll get used to holding it. Give it a few months and it'll be effortless. This is basically the simplest spell a Magus will ever learn. Most consider it beneath them - just a cheap easy way to demonstrate superiority over the unwashed masses. They never really master it.

"And Od is Internal Prana. Life energy. It's just a distinction between energy inside the body and energy without."

I contemplated that for a second but since I had no idea if recovering Od or... Internal Prana... quickly would be that useful I had a hard time being all that excited about it. Instead I tried to get comfortable maintaining my reinforcement, rising slowly from my bed to shuffle to my desk. From it, I grabbed a pocket knife I occasionally used to peel apples and slowly pressed it against my skin.

Nothing happened. The skin on my palm bent out of the way, and I could feel the pressure, but no matter how hard I pushed the knife simply would not break my skin. Huh. Neat. Almost like aura but... there was no color. My sisters always flickered like firefly's when they sparred at home. This was... pretty much undetectable.

Satisfied, I dropped the knife and released the Prana flowing through me, undoing the Reinforcement.

"So. Muscles?" I said with a relieved exhalation of breath. Archer looked at me like I was the dumbest person he'd ever met then shook his head.

"What? Are you kidding? You can barely shuffle three feet like that. Take a minute, recover, then do it again." He intoned flatly.

"Uh... how long does getting good at this... take?" I asked sheepishly. I didn't really have a lot of time to waste. I was behind as is, and I already had no idea how I was going to get into Beacon without anything resembling formal training or a transcript from a prep school. I had to get a move on now that I knew this was doable. I had _plans_ to set in motion.

"Good enough to move around with it? A couple months." Archer admitted easily, and a tension I didn't know I was feeling ebbed out of me. I only had a few months before the new school year. I basically had to achieve years of training in a single summer vacation - all while taking care of Jasmine and avoiding Bianca.

"But if you want to fight with it, your going to be at it for a while." Archer continued, completely bulldozing my sense of calm and replacing it with a panicked look.

"I don't _have_ years though!" I said frantically, some part of me noting it was pitch black outside my window and realizing I'd spent hour of focus on two minutes of knife immunity.

"I only have a few _months_! This is my _last chance_. I don't know what my family will do after this!" I babbled.

"What we have to." A calm feminine voice spoke up from the door. I felt the blood freeze in my veins.

"Hey sis." I said, a strange calm taking over my body while my mind skittered too and fro for an explanation on why I was raving to an empty room. Bianca stepped into my room, closing the door behind her. She had the dinner I'd packed for her in one hand, and was delicately winding pasta around a fork that was in her other, but her eyes never left me.

"Jaune..." Bianca said, seeming to pause and consider what she really wanted to say. She wasn't mad I didn't think - which was good, but neither was she all that pleased it seemed.

"Jaune, what will it take for you to accept that you just aren't good enough to be a Hunstman?" she finally said. There was no malice in her voice, no condescension. To Bianca being a Huntsman was just one skill set, no more or less important than any other, so I knew she wasn't insulting me or putting me down.

But it still hurt.

"Well first someone would have to actually let me try and fail instead of just _telling me_ I can't do it." I spat, my bitterness overcoming my natural inclination to be respectful of her. Archer watched the conversation with an analytical sort of detachment, spending more time with his eyes roving over Bianca than anything else.

"And if you had a chance and failed - then you would accept it?" Bianca probed, blithely eating a mouthful of spaghetti, her eyes flat and hard like they were just before a mission.

"Yes!" I yelled at her wincing at the way her fork paused half way to the lunch container for another bite.

Bianca's eyes scanned over me, as though trying to discern the truth of that statement. I wasn't stupid. I wanted nothing more than to follow in my families footsteps, but if I genuinely _didn't_ have any talent for it, then it's not like I was going to willfully get myself killed.

"Fine." she eventually said with a one shouldered shrug. "You have until the end of the vacation Jaune."

"To do... what?" I asked put off by her easy acceptance.

"If you can land even a single blow against me in a spar by the end of the vacation, I will see about getting you in to Beacon." Her nose crinkled in distaste at the statement, as though even acknowledging the possibility that I could become a Hunstman caused her physical distress.

"Deal!" I yelled in triumph. Bianca probably thought there was no way I could do it - after all, I had no training, no aura, and no weapon. But what she didn't know was that I had a secret weapon. A trump card. I had _Archer_.

"Careful sis. Might get more than you bargained for." I muttered under my breath.

Bianca either didn't hear, or far more likely; ignored the utterance. She ghosted out of my room and up the hallway with the silent steps of a proffessional hunter. I sat in smug silence for a minute, positively glowing with confidence.

"I'm not going to fight your sister for you."

I turned to gape at Archer in abject horror.

"But...you... I..." I spluttered, unable to find a better way to convey my confusion.

"You need to learn Magecraft. You won't have as much time for that if you go to shounen battle highschool." Archer explained his reasoning, rolling his eyes at his whitty description of Beacon.

"If you get stuck at home forever, not only are you farther from other prospective Masters and Servants, you also have more time to learn from me - probably the only person on this planet who can teach you how to be a Magus without trying to kill you."

"But... but the Hunstman Academies will teach me to fight! I'll be able to defend myself!" I rationalized.

"No offence to your sisters Jaune - but if that Grimm dog thing is what elite Hunstman are trained to fight, then no amount of Hunstman training is going to let you fight a Servant. Best you learn some Magecraft, pool some prana for me, and let me do all the work." Archer looked almost - _almost -_ apologetic about it, and I realized he didn't like it any more than I did. But his motivations were different than mine. I'd nearly forgotten in all the chaos, but Archer was here for one thing and one thing only. A wish.

Or so he said anyway.

"But... but... how am I supposed to even _touch_ Bianca without you!? You said it yourself that Im not good enough to reinforce and fight at once!"

"Then you should probably start training then shouldn't you?" Archer quipped easily.

I snapped at that moment. The last day and a half had been too taxing. I just wanted to catch a break. Just one break. So obviously, so inconsolably angry was I with Archer screwing me over, I charged at him. I had only really intended to grab him by his collar and shake him a bit, but too late in my charge I remembered a very important aspect of the situation. Archer was intangible.

I passed through him and slammed face first into the wall behind him, stumbling backwards before falling onto my ass. Silence reigned in the room again, until a snicker from Archer broke the spell. He seemed like he was trying to hold it in at first, only the barest of noises escaping his lips. But soon the hilarity of my misery proved too much for him, and outright laughter rang out in the room.

I allowed my head to fall back onto the floor, the impact softened by the piles of laundry I still had to do. I could have gotten up, but I just didn't have the energy for it. I decided to go to sleep right there on the floor, in the middle of Archers cacophonous laughter.

"I am so screwed." I whined.


	4. From Humble Origins

**Wow I haven't really been on recently. I've been sort of fiddling with a couple of original stories over on RR. I won't bother linking or advertising - I'm just explaining my absence here. I'm debating hopping over to continue Deku 10 in addition to this, but I sort of stumbled across that legend of RWBY fanfiction Couer Al'Aran, and even though I was trying to get the first 'book' in my original story done I was just** ** _compelled_** **to come back to my own whimsically started RWBY fic.**

 **In other news, I hope this chapter kind of explains why Archer didn't start with Structural Grasp. I admit that I did somewhat forget about it when I first started out but after the fact I find the idea that Archer is just flatout a shitty teacher highly amusing and somewhat accurate to the man himself. I'm still not sure where I fall on the balance of Fate stuff to RWBY stuff in the story and setting, but I do hope to include a fair mix. I'm taking suggestions on pairings and appearances from other possible Fate characters though so let me know how you feel about that either in a review or a private message. I do try to answer them when I get the time.**

 **And as always, Thanks for Reading.**

-ooo-

I woke up on the floor - exactly where I was when I'd fallen asleep the night before. The sun still wasn't up, and contrary to my luck nothing terrible appeared to have happened over night. Which was a blessing - because despite not remembering much of my dreams, I could taste the coppery tang of blood in my mouth, and the thick stench of a battlefield clung to me like a reapers cloak. I quickly rose from the floor, and jogged to the bathroom closing and locking the door behind me.

Staring in the mirror, I poked around my mouth, trying to find any sign of blood - raising and lowering my tongue to see if I had bitten it in my sleep. By the time I was sure nothing was out of order the stench had faded as well, nothing but a memory of a memory. I frowned, and ultimately filed it away under 'things to ask Archer about that he probably wont answer'.

It wasn't that I was _sure_ it was something magical in nature. It was just stupid _not_ to ask Archer about anything abnormal. Speaking of the wayward servant.

Where was he?

A quick glance around the bathroom told me that he hadn't followed me in, and backtracking to my bedroom provided no more insight as to Archers location than I had before.

"Archer?" I tried, calling out into the quiet house in what was ultimately a futile effort. Frowning, I quickly eyed my bedroom. It was a mess. I might be decent at managing the house in my families absence but that didn't mean I enjoyed chores any more than the average seventeen year old. I did my sisters laundry religiously because _they_ regularly came home from weeks in the field caked in blood and sweat.

I on the other hand was not so engaged most of the time. So doing my own laundry always felt like a much more thankless task. I could argue that I _was_ in school and therefore apt to be tired from all the learning and homework, but the truth was, I was a shitty student. I scraped by on minimal effort and barely passing grades. I simply didn't have the focus for topics so unrelated to what I wanted to do with my life. When I was younger I would try to fill that void with hobbies I _told_ myself I would be dedicated to - but they rarely lasted .ore than a month at best.

In the end it all came down to one thing; I wanted to be a Huntsman. Playing the guitar didn't help me with that. Art didn't help me with that. Nothing the track I was on in school helped me with that.

Which is why I - bumbling slacker I was - hadn't done my laundry in weeks. .

Hey, it's a good excuse. I'm a teenager not a philosopher.

The thought gave me pause. In this one specific case _couldn't_ my chores help me be a Hunstman.

I took a minute to focus then with the sharp tang of drawn steel, felt Prana rush through my body, not quite hardening my skin so much as making it better... making it _more_. A grin broke out on my face, even though I was moving no faster than a turtle. I methodically began shifting about the room, separating and stacking my clothes.

It took nearly an hour, but eventually I was able to lug all of my laundry down to the machine. Which wad lucky, because I ran out of prana at almost the exact moment I started the washer.

In that moment, when the molten flow of energy coursing through me cut off, a wave of exhaustion like no other washed over me. A part of me desperately hoped no one woke up to find me panting this hard alone in the basement. It was like Id run a marathon and the entire exertion had caught up with me all at once.

Note to self, stop using magic _before_ you're completely out of prana.

Seriously, would a mana bar be _that_ hard to make? I'll even take it as my semblance. This really sucked.

Despite my inner complaints I was grinning like a moron when I went back up the stairs. Oh yeah! Who can do magic? This guy! Come at me grimm! I calmed down - slightly - as I returned to the second floor of the house, stopping in front of one of my sisters rooms. Now I had to wait - and see how long it took my Prana to refill. Archer had said 'fast' but I had no frame of reference for that. It had to be slower than the rate it was consumed while I was reinforcing myself, otherwise I would never have to stop. The question was, could I check?

Hesitantly, I closed my eyes and gazed inward. There was... nothing there obviously. I wasn't a monk or ascetic capable of determining my inner reserves of strength. I frowned and started bonking my head on the door to Olivia's room in self recrimination. Obviously that wouldn't work. Come on! It's an ancient traditional art you idiot, if children could figure it out overnight then they _would_. The only time I could even _feel_ my Prana was when it was circulating through my circuits. I could...

The thought made me pause. It couldn't be that simple could it?

Could it!?

I quickly put my idea to the test, drawing Prana from my reserves to circulate through my body. I didn't do anything with it though, even though the simple act of drawing the energy forth was enough to have me laying my metaphysical hand on the pommel of the sword formed off nothing but my force of will.

And awkwardly at first, I felt it. The slow trickle of energy from the depths of my being to my circuits slowly increased its flow as I regained my strength, until my circuits were fit to burst with mystical energy. I nudged the door to Olivia's room and took a guess at how long I'd been standing in the hallway. It was only 5:30 am, the wee hours of the morning, still just a bit before the sun or either of my sisters would willingly be roused from bed. So it had taken me maybe fifteen minutes to get back to what I'd guess is at least _close_ to maximum capacity.

I slid into Olivia's bedroom and returned to my practice, grin once more plastered to my face, and Prana once more rushing to toughen my flesh and protect me from attacks. When I moved to begin gathering clothing, it was just that bit faster. Just that bit closer to my goals.

And that? That was something I could work with.

-ooo-

It beggared the imagination how a society could develop to be so... self deceiving. I had never really told Jaune because it seemed obvious to me - but I didn't exactly disappeared when he went to sleep. If he assumed I would always be there when he woke up then he was in for a rude awakening.

I stood on the roof of an electrical tower of some kind, leveraging the full might of my abilities as an Archer class servant to survey the small settlement of Ansel. Calling it a settlement was somewhat erroneous - because it was well within what I could make out of the tremendous walls surrounding the City of Vale. Honestly, Ansel was like like a settlement or village and more like one ward in a huge mega city.

Which makes sense if this is literally the _last_ city. I shivered at the concept, at the idea of a humanity pushed so far to the edge of existence that _this_ was what was left. I hadn't had a huge opportunity to examine how the people here acted, but Ansel had a sensation of... forced happiness about it. People that came into conflict swiftly mastered their tempers and moved around each other. Children that dropped their ice cream or broke their toys rapidly moved past their problems, or acted like they had never happened in the case of older children.

Almost every resident of Ansel - and if I had to guess, Vale - was like that. Curiously resistant to negative emotions, almost willfully ignorant of them. I'd have to ask Jaune about it later - assuming someone who lived here could even tell how strange the behavior was. Presumably this had something to do with how Jaune's Grimm were supposedly attracted to negative emotions - but that creature in the woods really hadn't been strong enough to warrant this type of societal masquerade.

I was pretty sure Rin could competently have taken the thing apart with little to know wasted energy. That might be saying a lot about her - but said a lot more about the beleaguered teenager who could no more have defeated it without my help than he could have flown to the moon under his own power.

The thought of the diminutive magus brought a wry smile to my lips as I continued to examine Ansel and its environs. In some ways, this world wasn't that different from his own. There were cars, or vehicles that certainly behaved enough _like_ cars as makes no difference. There were supermarkets, schools, police officers and even guns. In almost all things it was an entirely modern world.

Except it wasn't.

For one thing, pretty much every conventional form of fuel or energy had been replaced here by something that - no matter how much I tried to use Structural Grasping on it - I couldn't identify. It was in everything. I cooled refrigerators, moved vehicles, sparked weapons, and even seemed to somehow provide _running water_ in places where there simply was none. It came in all shapes and sizes, from engravings on things, to canisters of dust to _gems_ of the solid substance. That last part was of particular note. Rin would kill to have practically infinite access to seemingly magical gemstones of great power.

And yet these people treated it like a household commodity.

My eyes slid over the settlement of Ansel once more in my quest for understanding, my search for any other signs of Magecraft that I would have to either assault or defend my ignorant Master from. Every object my eyes passed over, over thing that even remotely entered my vision, my mind and my magic tore apart. Blueprints for anything and everything passed through my thoughts as I searched, my usage of Structural Grasping so automatic, so ingrained into my default method of being that it was closer to a type of Mystic Eye than the simple starter spell that all Magi must learn before progressing to...

Something about that thought wrenched my mind from my current task and back to the house on the outskirts of Ansel where even now I could feel my Master practicing reinforcement. Practicing reinforcement, the _second_ magic any competent Magi learned. Practicing reinforcement _without a working knowledge of Structural Grasping._

My shock was quickly overcome by horror. How by the Root had that _dumb, dopey, kid_ , managed to avoid killing himself?

I shook off the headache that trying to understand this worlds strange power source had given me and immediately made a mad dash for my Masters home. Of course I had forgotten to teach him Structural Grasping - after all it wasn't like I consciously had to _cast it_ anymore. Heck most of what I was teaching Jaune was just regurgitated information from Rin - I had neither learned nor cared about most of it in my time walking the earth.

After all, while I was many things - Hero, Servant, Wielder of a Reality Marble.

I was a _shitty_ Magus.

-ooo-

I hummed an of key tune as I work. I was into my third load of laundry now. I had shifted from pausing between chores and practice to examine my Prana as it restored to performing the action while I was working. Reinforce, Recharge, Laundry. That was what my world had narrowed down to, and for good reason. Switching mental tracks and trying to multi task was like juggling while doing push ups. In a word - stupidly difficult.

I was smoothly pulling the second load of laundry out of the drying machine and folding them while measuring the return of my Prana when Archer appeared in the room. He wasn't sweating - I wouldn't think that was possible for someone who is essentially a ghost - but he _looked_ like he'd exerted himself getting here. I was instantly on alert, fear racing through my veins at the urgency in his expression and body language. Almost without thinking about it, the sharp tang of drawn steel heralded my Prana as it rammed out of my circuits and into my skin. Mentally I judged myself to be at about half capacity, able to keep my defense up for about thirty minutes. Unfortunately I could barely move while reinforced, I had improved somewhat in the case of casual movement, but Archer was right - fighting like this was going to be something of a long term endeavor.

But I didn't really plan on staying reinforced for the full thirty minutes. I just wanted to make sure I was protected from any surprise while Archer reported. If something burst into the room I was going to shunt everything I had into Archer and keep it there until _he_ killed the problem.

"What is it?" I said, managing to hold back my panic admirably, even though the half folded shirt that had fallen from my lap more than demonstrated my state of mind.

If anything my sudden reactions, something I would have thought Archer would be at least passingly proud of the caution behind, seemed to alarm Archer even more than he had been when I had simply been folding laundry.

"Jaune. Stop reinforcing _right now_." Archer said gravely, recomposing himself as though nothing had been wrong in the first place. The only sign that something was wrong was the slight tightening around his eyes.

Tentatively, I released my stranglehold on the theoretical safety of my iron skin and looked at Archer quizzically.

"Okay..." I said, cautiously. "Whats going on?"

"There's something you need to learn. Give me the body." I bristled a bit at 'the' body instead of 'your' body. Obviously we were going to have to have a conversation about who was in charge of who here. I shuddered to think what a jerk like Archer could get up to if the only way he could interact with the world was through me. But I filed it away as a complaint for later. Archer was clearly disturbed by something and there was no reason for me to believe he was being flippant about it.

With another exertion of will I was once more an observer in my own body. It wasn't as jarring as it could have been. But it was still pretty damn jarring when I knelt to the floor and retrieved the half folded shirt on the ground where I had dropped it.

"What I am about to show you is a spell called Structural Grasping. Your going to need to learn to do this and Reinforce at the same time, but it has a number of other uses. Think about this spell as an analytical tool you can use later in life to create your own spells and tools." my voice spoke, and I could detect a tinge of guilt in it that immediately left me feeling suspicious.

'Why did you need my body for this.' I queried.

"Because you should be able to feel what I do and replicate it. It's easier than explaining the workings of a spell with no physical analogue to someone with no idea how magecraft works." Archer chastised me.

That made sense. It also explained by Archer hadn't felt the need do this to teach me reinforcement. That at least was easily explained. Make prana, shove it into your target, profit. Something more esoteric however, might be somewhat harder to describe - like trying to tell somehow how purple sounded.

Prana began to flow through my veins, supplemented by something... something greater than my own meager reserves. The sensation of molten metal shifting about in me was both different than when I utilized my circuits of my own accord, and somewhat disconcerting. The click of a gun firing went off somewhere in my mindscape and the Prana rushed forward, not into my skin, by towards the shirt in Archers - my - hands. Instead of releasing the Prana, cementing it in place to reinforce the shirt and make it somehow _more_ , the energy shifted about the shirt in a tight formation, taking on a tint that forced it to match the existence of the shirt, and then flowing _backwards_ into me. As the energy returned it brought with it information. Small details about the shirt in my hands began to fill Archers - my - mind. How many times it had been washed, every nick and tear in the fabric, the exact composition of the shirt. And then, just before the sensation had caught off there was more, something more detailed - like my mind was sinking in to the shirt.

But Archer stopped the magic there, and my mind snapped violently away from the connection - the sensation of becoming one with a _t-shirt_ somehow repugnant to me in a way that caused physical pain.

Archer quickly cut off the flow of Prana through me, the short moment of his presence draining me noticeably as he stepped out and away from my body. I quickly began to cycle my Prana to determine exactly how much the drain was, and determined that the short moment of possession had probably eaten through a small chunk of what I had when he arrived. It made me frown - because to all accounts Archer really couldn't be expected to possess me for more than a handful of minutes even if I was at full capacity.

"Now. Reinforce your skin, but start with Structural Grasp." Archer said imperiously, distracting from my thoughts.

I did as he bade without comment, sending my Prana into my body and shifting it about until I had a comfortable loop of energy passing back and forth from my circuits to my body and back again. Information flooded me, as it had with the shirt. I needed to eat, I had a cavity, my skin could tolerate exactly 5 units of Prana before -

I blinked.

Now that I could _sense_ it, I could much more accurately move Prana to reinforce my skin. It was simply a matter of creating pathways of Prana that fell away from the original line created by Structural Grasping. I could widen or thin those branching paths as appropriate to achieve more or less reinforcement, and more importantly, I could detect the places where I was sending Prana but not focusing hard enough to actually reinforce anything, thereby wasting the precious energy.

Curious, I released my reinforcement but continued to examine my body. Because the energy was returning to me almost as fast as I was moving it about, Structural Grasping almost cost nothing to maintain, a fact which left me several minutes of Archer patiently watching me to focus and eventually achieve my goal.

I could tell _exactly_ how much Prana I had. Or... Od, since I was measuring the energy that wasn't being converted for use by my circuits. I could even tell how much I could _potentially_ hold. Suddenly a thought occurred to me.

"...Archer?" I asked patiently, but with mounting fury.

"Yes?" The lackadaisical Servant replied, clearly satisfied with his teaching and no longer paying much attention to me.

"Why didn't you teach me this _before you taught me Reinforcement?!_ " I cried out. Archer's gaze snapped back to me, as though he hadn't expected me to notice the obvious benefit of knowing how much energy to use without _killing myself_.

I'll give him this, he had the good grace to at least _pretend_ to be chagrined.

"I forgot." he said, without a shred of shame in his voice or on his face.

I eyed him for several moments, waiting for a greater explanation than that.

"To be a Magus is to walk with death?" He tried again.

I summarily chose, in that moment, to walk to the open dryer, shove my head in it among the sound dampening influence of the freshly laundered clothes - and scream.

-ooo-

I spent the rest of that day ignoring Archer and practicing my reinforcement. I also changed my routine to include practicing Structural Grasp. Since the spell cost nearly nothing to use, I spent much of my downtime between hour long attempts at reinforcement on grasping the unique composition and makeup of pretty much everything I came into contact with. All the while Archer peppered me with questions about Ansel, Vale, and the Grimm.

Questions that, while I would answer eventually, I wasn't going to answer right now. I had realized that there was really only one way to 'punish' an untouchable, invisible, man. Ignore him.

"I wonder what size bra your sister wears." Archer finally spouted, when I had finished doing all the laundry and moved on sweeping the house. I froze, my broom stopping mid motion.

"I'm sorry?" I asked in that special threatening way only a brother can respond to someone asking after his sister.

"I said, 'I wonder if this is all thats left of the human race.' " Archer replied cheekily.

I returned to ignoring him.

"What'd you say her name was? Bianca? It's this one right?" Archer continued unimpeded, his phantom form drifting up the second floor hallway I was in and slipping through the door.

For a second, I considered jumping down the stairs face first and shunting mana at him so he had to endure the impact just as much as I did. It was the second thing I had though of for getting at the white haired bastard after 'ignore him' but the fact that I would probably have to suffer the same pain as him made the plan some what unpalateable.

"No. Vale isn't the _last_ place on Remnant with people in it." I bit out in answer to his question. I was going to remember this. I didn't know how, but I _was_ going to have my revenge.

"Huh. Where else is there?" Archer asked companionably, slipping out of my sisters room and coming to a halt in front of me as I furiously took my rage out on the specs of dust dotting the floor.

"Vale, Vacuo, Mistral, Atlas." I answered, practically spitting the words.

"Does everyone use the same stuff to power their machines?" Archer asked carefully. The question was casual but it was... _too_ casual. Like he was trying to downplay its importance.

"What, dust?" I said snorting. "I suppose in your time you just ran on hamster wheels for power or something?"

Archer stared at me perplexed. I didn't know why. I mean, _of course_ everything was powered by dust. What the hell else would we be using?

"What. _.. is_ dust though. " Archer said, gesturing for me to continue my explanation. I paused to think about my answer for a second.

"Magic." I eventually said, both a demand and an answer to his question.

"...I'm sorry?" Archer replied, evidently annoyed by the one word response.

"Magic. Magecraft. Whatever. Teach me more and I'll answer your question." I said snarkily. I know it was petty, and I had barely mastered what he'd already taught me - but Archer had a curious way of constantly being just annoying enough to be mad at, but not enough to truly hate.

"...I can't. I only know Structural Grasp and Reinforcement." he answered with no a single iota of shame in his voice.

"You can do _Tracing_ can't you?" I spat rudely at him. I wasn't stupid. I'd only seen him do or say it a single time. Or maybe he hadn't said but merely _thought_ it while possessing me. But regardless I was more than aware of the power he had access to - and I wanted it.

"I can't teach you that." he answered flatly, a hard edge to his voice.

"Then- "

"No. I mean, it's literally impossible for you to learn. Its a magecraft unique to me, and you lack the means or the upbringing to utilize it let alone replicate it." Archer snapped at me. I blinked once.

"So... its your semblance?" I asked cautiously.

"I - sure. Yes. That."

"You don't sound very sure of that." I pointed out.

"Tell you what kid, explain to me what Dust and Semblance's are, and I'll explain a _kind_ of magecraft Im _aware of_ that might be safe for you to fiddle with." Archer said with some exasperation. I thought for a moment about it. It seemed like a fair enough deal. And its not like I was going to get any examples of what magecraft could do from anyone else.

"Fine. Dust is like... pure elemental energy I guess is the best way to describe it. A blue dust crystal is what provides all the water in the house since were so far away from the town that we can't use the normal water lines." I started, trying to think of how to explain a universal power source to a caveman.

"It's pretty much how everything works. Stove? Red Dust. Lights? Yellow Dust." I finished with a shrug.

"As for a semblance, I think its supposed to be the special power everyone who has their aura unlocked gets." Archer shot a contemplative look at me for a few seconds, then muttered something about 'sorcery traits' before nodding.

"Then yeah, Tracing is my semblance." Archer allowed with a shrug. Damn but would summoning swords that could dice through Grimm like a hot knife through butter would be useful. Oh well. That's cleared up at least.

"So..." I prodded, knowing that if I didn't bring it up Archer would happily 'forget' his end of the the deal. He rolled his eyes at the prompt and took on his lecturing pose.

"It's not my area of expertise, but a friend of mine specialized in a kind of magecraft called Jewelcraft. She could store power in gems of a sufficient rarity and use it later. Or blow them up. I admit she did that with relative frequency too." Archer said with a shrug.

"You probably won't be able to do it, but Im confident that with Structural Grasp you won't blow yourself up at least, so theres no reason you couldn't experiment." If I didn't mind wasting time on something that might not work, was the unspoken sentiment behind the statement.

"Are you sure I couldn't learn -"

"Um." the sound of a girlish voice caught me off mid sentence. It had come from behind me, about half way up the hall, and hearing it had reminded me that I had to stop talking to Archer out loud so often. A quick glance over my shoulder revealed Jasmine in her school uniform staring at me with a worried look on her face. I scrambled for an explanation about why I would be nattering about Dust and Semblance's in the hallway to myself. Blessedly, there was an easy explanation to hand.

"Hey Jas." I said nervously. "I was just doing some review while I cleaned."

"You've been doing that a lot recently bro. " Jasmine noted, taking the last few steps forward to pull the door to her - newly cleaned - room open. She was still looking at me with a hint of worry that I didn't like seeing on my youngest sister. I was older than her dammit - she should be relying on my, not worrying about my _sanity._

"Ah... Yeah. I just... don't have a lot of time before Beacon opens..." I said, grasping for something to say, and realizing too late that I had spoken a real worry instead of a banal placation.

"Because of Bianca right?" Jasmine said calmly, disappearing into her room and closing the door. No doubt she was going to change out of her school uniform. Unlike me, Jas was considered a genius when it came to hunting, she didn't really have a summer break the way I did. She just moved from normal school to prep school. It was pretty much just a change of uniform and curriculum to her.

"Yeah." I said, raising my voice and sitting down by her door so we could talk.

"Do you... want to train with me?" She asked tentatively.

"I doubt they'd welcome me at your middle school Jas." I said dryly, ignoring Archer's raised eyebrow and muttered insinuation that someone of my intelligence level would fit perfectly into such a setting.

"We could spar!" Jasmine said enthusiastically. "After school!" she added.

That... that could work. Granted, fighting my twelve year old sister probably wasn't the best way to practice but, as I've previously mentioned it's not like she was weak. At the very least it would give me the chance to practice getting punched in the face while reinforcing.

"Sure." I acquiesced. "Tomorrow?" I asked, knowing I would have to get a bit more practice down and get a hold of a weapon to practice with.

"Mm!" came the pleased voice of my sister through the door.

That night, after I had pointedly refused to allow Archer to cook, or taken even a single piece of his advice in the kitchen, I crept from my bed and into the hall once more. Quietly - so as not to wake my sisters - I pulled on the rope that brought the stairs to the attic down.

They were positively covered with dust of the mundane variety, and I winced as some of it fell on the floor where I would have to clean it tomorrow. Ignoring that for the moment, I tiptoed up the decrepit wooden planks into the attic. The room was just as dusty and unclean as the stairs up had been, and I made a mental note to clean and organize the place. I came up here often enough for my own reasons, but I wasn't obliged to clean the place - nobody used it often enough for anyone to bother telling me to do it.

With practiced steps I moved through the unending mountain of junk my family had collected over multiple generations. Old weapons, spent cartridges, family pictures and memoirs. The type of thing any long running hunter family kept to honor their ancestors. Finally I came to a halt in front of a single traveling chest. I knew this object better than anything else in the attic. It belonged to my great great grandfather - and had once contained his magic book in addition to his ancient weapon, rusted and under used.

Opening the chest - the lock had long since rusted away - I drew my scroll from a back pocket, shining a light on the contents. There, amidst the letters and journals of a man who had once been known as one of the greatest Huntsman of all time, sat a sheathed sword.

The sheath looked like it had once been white, but was now a faded brown where rust and age had eaten away at it. I could just barely make out the splash of gold on it that was once the Arc family crest. Putting my scroll down on the floor I drew the whole thing, scabbard and blade together, out of the chest.

This would be my weapon. I was already following in great great grandfathers footsteps. In a sense, I was the true heir to his knowledge, so it was only fitting that I would take on his weapon.

Crocea Mors. The Yellow Death. My blade and shield.

I blinked once as a thought occurred to me then looked back down at the sword again, still held in my two hands like a newborn child.

"Yellow Death? Man Grandpa, way to pick a bad guy name for your weapon."

Quietly, I held the sword under one arm so I could delicately close the chest with the other. I had a lot to do if I was going to be ready to start sparring with Jasmine tomorrow. Best I get some sleep.

Once more I stealthily padded through the halls of the Arc family home, a passive part of my mind registering the absence of Archer, even as a more exultant part of me reveled in the progress I was making.

Tomorrow I wasn't going to be weak, defenseless Jaune Arc. Tomorrow I was going to take my first steps onto the path of a true Huntsman. Of a hunter of Grimm. Of a Magus.

Of a Hero.


	5. Through Foolish Fumblings

I dreamt of war. Not a far flung nebulous war or series of wars. The first war. The one that started it all.

The Grail War.

I didn't see it all, which is good because I couldn't understand half of what I saw. But I saw enough. No. Not 'enough'. Too much. There was no unit of measurement I could accurately use to describe the horrors - the _atrocities_ committed in that snapshot of time. Mass death, torture, machinations and manipulations so needlessly cruel that it beggared the mind. Merely experiencing them second hand was enough to leave me fearing for an incursion of Grimm.

And maybe... maybe that would be for the best. Maybe _this_ is what the Grimm are for. A punishment and a warning, for a civilization that had once been capable of such true villainy as was perpetrated in that war. It was disgusting to think about that _anything_ could leave me thinking that someone _deserved_ the Grimm, let alone that they might serve a purpose.

Worse still, I wasn't experiencing the war from Archers point of view. Archer, who was curiously absent of my recollections of that terrible period of time. Archer, who was a hero that surely, _surely_ could have put a stop to those atrocities if he had been present. No, I was afflicted not by memories of a heroic battle against evil, but the desperate struggles of another helpless, useless teenager - just like me.

Try as I might, hard as I pushed, I couldn't escape those brutal, harsh memories. The defeats and losses that just seemed to pile up endlessly. I thrashed, I screamed, hell I even started trying to drag enough Prana through myself to cause another seizure blackout. But no matter what I did, I was trapped there.

Trapped in true despair.

-ooo-

I woke with a jerk. A cold sweat was running down the small of my back and my hand convulsively grasped for the hilt of Kanchou and... no, of Crocea Mors at my bedside. I need not have bothered. Bianca stood over my bed like an avenging wraith, the mallet like barrel of Cantankerous Thing swiveled left and right like the muzzle of a great beast scenting blood.

Details slowly started to filter into my vision. It was still pitch black outside, meaning it was the middle of the night or very very early morning. Archer was in a corner of the room, his face hard and unreadable, his gaze flicking back and forth between Bianca, Cantankerous Thing and Crocea Mors like he was trying to decide which one perplexed him more.

I took all of this in in mere moments, sleep having been driven from me by urgency and worry quickly wiping away any calm I may have returned to upon waking somewhat safely in bed.

"What's going on?" I whispered to Bianca, afraid that any loud noise would be enough to trigger the apocalyptic scenario that had created my current predicament.

"You were screaming in your sleep." Archer supplied helpfully from his corner of the room, apparently having decided that my sisters personal weapon was most worthy of his attention at that moment.

"You were wailing for help." Bianca answered me, not realizing Archer had already - sort of - answered my question for me. Slowly she lowered the barrel of her weapon, the unadorned and altogether confusing mix of firearms she had stuck together and declared complete clicking and whirring as the various parts of it retracted and compressed. A feature built into it by necessity so the damn thing could get past a normal sized doorway.

Heat suffused my face and my cheeks turned what Archer would later describe as 'fire engine red'. Had I honestly woken Bianca up because of a _bad dream_? Yeah I'm sure _that_ will convince her I'm ready to fly the roost. That's me, strong dependable totally capable Jaune.

Archer was snickering in the corner as I fought to find the words to apologize for waking Bianca up. Like a scroll resetting to factory default, the wild look in my sister's eyes completely faded away, replaced by an annoyed and inquisitive look. And I do mean inquisitive as in 'inquisition'. Complete with hot pokers.

"Nightmare! It was just a nightmare." I managed to stammer at her. Archers bemused chuckling was rapidly growing into my own personal laugh track.

Counter to my expectations - I know I would be pretty aggravated if Jasmine woke me in the night because of something like this - Bianca merely settled her stance and tilted her head towards the small chair by my desk.

"Should I stay?" She asked gently, a tinge of motherliness seeping into her voice. It was... not tempting because to admit that would be to assassinate the last remnants of my pride, but reassuring that she cared. Bianca had probably put more effort into raising me than our actual parents, if only because the difference in our ages had left a sizeable chunk of time where she was both able to watch me, and unable to work yet. It was easy to forget with all my recent troubles, but my family did love me.

They were just completely incapable of letting me make my own mistakes.

"No thanks Tai..Sis." I said, passing the bizarre flash of a much smaller woman with a bamboo sword off as stutter. I eyed Archer as best I could without obviously tipping Bianca off to the fact that I was looking at a particular part of the room. He had gone curiously silent at my slip up, and was looking dumbfounded at me.

In truth I was equally confused. I could recognize the name Taiga from that terrible dream, but I wasn't really sure exactly _why_ I had nearly said it. From the looks of it neither did Archer.

"If your sure." Bianca said, only the way she lingered in my door way for a moment before leaving giving me any indication that she was hesitant to leave me be.

The minute Bianca was out of sight I turned a furious glare on my now contemplative servant.

'Do you have something you wanna tell me Archer oh buddy oh pal?' I mentally hissed at him, trying to infuse every ounce of petty annoyance I could in the communication.

"Well since I can only manifest through you, I guess there might be some... bleed over." Archer hedged. What the hell did 'some bleed over' mean?

'Is that why I've been having these messed up dreams?' I forwarded, watching for his reaction. Instead of behaving like I'd just put some damning piece of evidence in front of him, Archer actually seemed relieved. And I wasn't really sure what to make of that.

"The Dream Cycle." Archer stated eliciting a groan from me. This sounded like another one of those times where the words probably held more significance than I was deriving from them. It was the type of mystical crap I was guessing I was going to have to get a good grasp on if I wanted to make a career out of beating people up with Magecraft, but in the interest of expediency I made a last ditch effort to hit the skip button. I had a bunch of more pressing issues than creepy bad dreams.

'Is it dangerous?' I asked, and Archer shook his head in the negative and opened his mouth to speak. I continued before he could get a word out though. 'Is it _normal_?' I pressed forward, once more receiving another shake of the head.

'Then we can talk about it when I get into Beacon.' I said, completely shutting the conversation down. Unfortunately Archer looked smugly satisfied with that outcome, which made me immediately want to revisit the decision. I was reasonably sure the guy/spirit/thing had my best interests at heart - at least in terms of basic survival - but I was equally sure that he was keeping me in the dark about a bunch of stuff for his own convenience. I didn't much like that.

Still, if he didn't wanna tell me, and didn't think it was a problem, then I could put it off for at least a little bit longer.

I shot a look at the clock on my desk and winced at the hour. I'd only gotten a few hours of sleep - three or four at best. And yet I didn't feel all that tired. Rather, I felt physically like I _could_ sleep more, but a nervous energy that I had never experienced before made the notion unpalatable. I felt like there were things to do, and that if I had to sacrifice some sleep to accomplish them, then so be it.

As someone who once slept through his own birthday, I firmly found the sudden drive to be _doing_ something alien and unwanted, even if I couldn't presently do away with it.

Letting loose a resigned sigh I rose from my bed and grabbed Crocea Mors from my bedside. I let the rusted blade fall firmly into my lap and just... stared at it. I had been in a bit of a mood earlier in the night when I had gone to get it, but looking at it now with the light of the moon through my window to make examining it easier, I had no idea how I was going to make this thing combat ready. It looked like it would fall apart at the first rough impact.

Almost without thinking about it, I began to channel my prana in order to Structurally Grasp the sword and its attendant sheathe. I was immediately filled with knowledge. The blade was serviceable - superficially rusted only. It had a few nicks in it from my great grandfathers time that I would need to be filed down and the swords cutting edge was practically none existence. The sheathe - which would unfold into a shield bearing the gold arch that had once been the Arc family heraldry at a touch - would need slightly more work. It was nowhere near as complicated a device as the Cantankerous Thing, but the rust had managed to get into some of the hinges that allowed the shield to unfold. The immediate result would probably be either a malfunction that prevented part of the shield from expanding - or worse, prevent the entire thing from shifting.

Altogether the shield and sword pair were nearly the epitome of vanilla. There was nothing extra to each of them individually, no blatant magical effect that occurred as my Prana rushed through it, no hidden mode or pistol in the hilt. Just a good solid example of classic -

I paused, squinting at the shield and sword combination in my lap. There was something... something incomplete about it. Like there was supposed to be something present that I simply wasn't seeing. A connection of sorts. Upon reexamining I found that the sword didn't _quite_ reach the bottom of its scabbard. there was a gap of about an inch the felt... inconsistent. I sent a tendril of Prana down the length of the blade to probe at the space, and found to my shock that not only could I not Structurally Grasp the space - my very Prana itself was repelled by something there. Something subtle. I didn't know what to make of it, so I looked at Archer - sure that if I could notice the problem he could as well.

"Looks like your grandfather didn't want people who weren't blood poking about with his mystic code." Archer said with some curiosity. When I didn't immediately move or say anything in response he looked up at me and rolled his eyes. "Your blood Jaune. you have to bleed on it." he supplied as though I couldn't put two and two together.

I mean, okay I _hadn't_ gotten that from his first statement, but there was no reason he had to know that.

'Whats a mystic code?' I queried, deflecting.

"Think about it like an artifact. You play video games right? They're like magic items. Magi spend their whole lives building and perfecting them to pass on to their descendants, who obviously spend _their_ whole lives doing the same." Archer explained, reaching out to Crocea Mors and furrowing his brow when he passed through it.

'Why do you keep doing that? You _know_ your a ghost.' I asked, more to needle him for looking like a fool than because I actually cared.

"I'm used to being able to switch back and forth at will. Don't blame me - this is _your_ fuck up." the white haired servant groused. It was hard to respond to that since he was actually spot on with his accusation, so instead I ignored him.

Archer snorted and marked an invisible scoreboard in the air with his finger. Inwardly I was dismayed that he was apparently keeping score, but I managed to keep my face straight. Returning to my investigation of Crocea Mors I pull the blade free of its scabbard, the sound of rusty metal grinding together leaving me afraid Bianca was going to explode back into my room and catch my trying to cut myself with a rusty sword.

And what a sight that would be. I'd be grounded for life. No - worse, they'd get one of those bubbles for kids with allergies then tie and drag me around behind them like some kind of idiot pet that couldn't be trusted to shit in the right spot. I'd be a laughing stock I'd -

No. Calm. I'm a Huntsman...Magus... uh, Determined Teenager. There. That sounded better. I was _not_ going to be foiled by loud noises and my own fear. When a few minutes of me remaining totally still passed without event, the beating of my heart as it jackhammered in my ears started to slow, and I was able to focus again. Wincing, and more importantly, hoping Archer had a spell for tetanus, I took a firm grasp of the hand sized length of sword protruding from the scabbard and squeezed at the same time as I tugged on the blade to pull it up another inch or two. The sound was muffled by my hand on the blade, but the sound of my burgeoning wail was withheld purely by force of will. It hurt like a _bitch._ What the hell was _wrong_ with my great gramps? Had he never heard of a god damn password? Was being one of apparently the only freaking people who could do Magecraft not a good enough indicator that I should have this freaking sword?

Grumbling at the archaic method of identification - I watched with interest as my blood streamed down the blade and into the scabbard. It wasn't the natural flow of a fluid under the power of gravity. It was literally as though a magnetic pull was being exerted on my blood, with more and more of it pouring from my hand. I found myself unable to pull my bleeding hand free, and entertained a brief moment of belief that maybe the sword was going to bleed me to _death_. But then my hand came free with a sickeningly wet sound, and the blade rammed itself back down into its sheath under its own power. And then... nothing. Nothing happened.

"Oh come on!" I grumbled under my breath. I was panting now, not so much from exertion as fear and anticipation. The completely anticlimactic way the whole thing had ended left me with no outlet for that energy, so instead I swore under my breath for a few more moments as I allowed the jitters to leave my body. Never go into battle with nerves. I'd learned that in...

in...

I had never learned that. Because I had never been in battle.

"Try to using Structural Grasp on it again." Archer suggested, and I had to resist the urge to smack myself in the forehead with my still bloodied palm. No shit I had to look at it again. Come on Jaune, it's not rocket science.

With a tired sigh I pushed my Prana through the blade of Crocea Mors once more, quickly finding the pool of my blood at the bottom of the sheath. The minute my Prana extended towards it, I found my reserves wrenched from me, as the energy was pulled into the strange circuit that my blood had created between the bottom of the sheath and the blade. In mere moments I was drained nearly dry, only a thin trickle of energy maintaining my connection with the sword.

It was then that I felt it. A presence at the edge of my awareness. It felt like the cold edge of a blade had wedged itself into my brain but managed not to actually cut me. My entire body felt as though it had frozen over, as though though even the slightest movement would cause my death. It didn't escape my notice that Archer - ever present, always relaxed Archer - had pretty much thrown himself through the adjacent wall and out of sight the minute the presence had manifested. It was a physical presence of course. It didn't seem to exist in that sense. It merely.. Was.

The presence seemed to take great pleasure in my response. Like a child presented with a lollipop. It hovered at the edge of my mind - a courtesy I realized, because I knew with absolute certainty that my continued presence on the mortal plane was now merely a formality to this thing. It made no words. It seemed to lack the capacity, or at the very least, interest in conventional speech. Instead whenever it wanted to communicate it merely bombarded me with sensations and feelings. Miraculously I _did_ understand it. Less miraculously, every 'sentence' from the thing sent unbearable pain exploding through my skull. It was like standing next to the speakers at a big concert and being completely unable to break past the crowd to escape.

The thing, an… an elemental I think is what it would describe itself as if it could, pressed against my mind demanding to know what I wanted. Which was a good question because I genuinely didn't know. I had no idea what this thing was _for_ let alone why my great grandpappy Arc had seen fit to lock it in a box and never tell anyone. I supposed that I did want to know how the hell this Magecraft stuff was supposed to work, at least enough that I could take a guess at how I was supposed to proceed with -

Mind shattering pain filled me as the elemental responded to my musings. It wasn't a refusal, so much as a shrug followed by the sure knowledge that if this thing tried to fully provide me with the information required to truly understand it I _would_ die. A cold sweat and a feeling a dread filled me at the mental image. It had been… extremely detailed. Still, now I understood that this was a kind of information trade… but what did the elemental get out of it?

That thought was answered with a burst of mental static and hundreds, no _thousands_ of Grimm being brought low by Crocea Mors. It wasn't as much that the blade had to be used, it was more like the elemental simply _hated_ the Grimm. I had no idea why but -

More pain. Another mental picture of my death. Man was I going to need therapy after this. But this was kind of an opportunity wasn't it? Great Gramps clearly thought so or he wouldn't have kept the thing. If I asked it to give me the means to kill Grimm that maybe it would help me becom-

Pain. Not an insignificant burst of it, not even a momentary stretch of it. I could _feel_ the knowledge the thing, the elemental, the _Yellow Death_ was searing into my brain. I could also tell that it found my ability to experience pain endlessly entertaining, and suspected it might have been inflicting more than was necessary simply because it could. Still, after it was done I found I had blacked out and the presence had vanished. Vanished and left me with a head full of information I couldn't make heads or tails of. It was… if I had to describe it it was like being given a dictionary for a language you didn't speak. I still couldn't really do any Magecraft besides that which Archer had taught me, but all the information I would need to begin _truly_ learning was now present in the back of my mind. Yeah I could accurately draw out the numerology formula for strength on a sheet of paper, but I had no idea how I was supposed to parlay that into a complete sequence, which I instinctively knew I was going to need if I wanted to achieve an actual thaumaturgical effect.

I also, apparently, knew the word 'thaumaturgical.'

I blinked once, realizing I had fallen back onto my bed and that my eyes were dry from having been too afraid to blink while I was interacting with the _thing_. Slowly, I continued to blink, moisture and sight returning to me. As gingerly as if I was holding a cobra I shifted Crocea Mors out of my lap and onto the table, pushed as far away from my bed as I could.

Archer was still nowhere to be seen, so I tried to use the mind link thing to let him know he could come back. To my great surprise it actually worked, and the red clothed servant cautiously phased through the wall. He eyed Crocea Mors as he entered and I filed away the fact that he couldn't actually run away if I wanted to yell at him away for later consideration.

"What the fuck was that." I growled at him. I was so angry that I didn't even bother to communicate telepathically, using my voice to be mad just made me feel better. I didn't for one second believe he didn't know - he had escaped way too quickly for that.

"Nature Spirit. Jaune trust me - you didn't want me in the room for that." Archer said with a genuinely guilty look on his face. He kept that guilty look on his face all the way to the opposite side of the room from Crocea Mors where he pressed himself into the wall like he was making sure he could escape again if he had to. Coward.

"That tells me literally -" my eye twitched and knowledge flooded forward from my new mental lexicon. A Nature Spirit, or Elemental, was a powerful spiritual body that defended the planet from external threats. Like antibodies, they purged anything that had the potential to cause great harm to the planet.

Usually, that meant humans.

This one however, seemed to have a particular distaste for Grimm which was heartening. It would really suck to find out that Grimm belong on Remnant more than people do.

"-...nevermind." I finished. Archer gave me an odd look, and his mouth was half open as though he was going to explain anyway, so I waved him off.

"The… thing, explained it. Just not with words. Took a second to catch up with me." I lied. Well it wasn't really a lie but… it didn't fully explain the situation either now did it?

"Huh. Look Jaune, those things are dangerous. Like, move a tectonic plate to kill your whole civilization dangerous. You should get a different weapon - that one is far to dangerous." Archer pleaded. I mean really pleaded. Not snarkily, not with a backhanded comment. A genuine actual plea. It made his request a lot more legitimate. Unfortunately, I couldn't really budge on this. Crocea Mors was a part of my inheritance, something from Leon Arc that had the ability to - and actually already sort of had - helped me with my Magecraft.

Not that I was eager to call up that thing again I thought with a shiver.

"Sorry Archer. I… well lets just say I kinda need it okay?" I said, and when Archers face took on a grave countenance I raised my hands placatingly and said "It'll be fine. I swear."

He didn't really look convinced - but he didn't argue anymore either. There was silence between us for a second and then I eventually gave up on continued conversation. I couldn't go back to sleep after all that, so I might as well make the most of the time. I didn't really have any chores to do at the moment, so instead, I reinforced myself and started doing exercises. Painful, tiring, excercise - all at a pace that could only be described as excruciating.

I should have predicted it, but the obvious misery I was suffering seemed to improve Archers mood. Something he made sure I knew constantly through the night and well into the morning of my impromptu training session.

-ooo-

Okay. Okay I could do this. I was a great and powerful Magus. I could… make my skin sort of tough. And move real slow. Hm. Maybe I could convince my future classmates that I was just really deliberate. Jaune 'The Turtle' Arc.

Hey, weirder things have happened.

"Jauney?" Jasmine asked from across the length of our front yard. I winced at her voice. This was our first spar since she had made the offer to help me train, and I wasn't ashamed to say I was afraid for my life. I loved my sister, probably more than any other member of my family, but she was trained to be a Huntsman from a young age for a reason.

"Yeah just… gimme a sec." I said. I sent the tendrils of Prana necessary to reinforce myself outward, then drew Crocea Mors and its shield from my hip. I had spent the back half of my day oiling and cleaning the things, though I pointedly didn't bother to sharpen the blade in preparation of the spar. I didn't want to accidentally hurt Jasmine after all, and it's not like I was going to need to go for the kill.

Jas bounced from foot to foot across from me, still in her combat school uniform and twirling her personal weapons about like a child playing with a jump rope. But the two tonfa she spun around her were anything but a toy. I only prayed the shotgun's built into them weren't loaded. I was confident I could survive some blunt force trauma, but I wasn't going to bet against a point blank blast from a firearm made to kill Grimm.

"Ready!" I said carefully, raising my shield spreading my legs. I lifted Crocea Mors above my head, point forward just above my shield. It was a stance Archer had hastily suggested I try the first time I had actually attempted to practice with the weapon. The suggestion had come between guffaws and rude comments about a stiff breeze being able to take me out, but he had helpfully describe it as the favoured stance of a Roman Legionnaire - whatever that was.

As soon as my stance firmed, Jasmine exploded forward, one arm raised and ready to block any strike I might make, while the other spun the L shaped weapon under her forearm. The centrifugal force of that tonfa was brought against me in a strike aimed directly at my shield. Not my body, not my weapon, my _shield._

Okay, I can do this. I'm not _that_ slow. I can block something that's already aimed at my shield easy, just -

My thought process was cut short by the sheer force of the blow. She hadn't hit my shield dead center, instead her tonfa had slammed into the outside edge of my defensive armament, sending it careening out of my grip and onto the ground next to us. Before I could even think to counter attack Jas stepped inside my reach, too close to hit her with my sword without the movement being awkward and easy to deflect. Her free hand - the one she'd been prepared to block with - swung upward stopping mere inches from my jaw in an aura enhanced uppercut that I'm pretty sure would have taken my whole head off if it had connected.

Would stood like that for a second, frozen in the moment of my loss, before Jasmine twirled her tonfa again and skipped backwards, all sweet smiles girlish giggles.

"You can't just put your shield near an attack and hope it'll be blocked Jauney. It's all about um…" my twelve year old sister paused, trying to find the right way to describe what she wanted.

"Angles?" I offered, not at all surprised by my defeat. Oh I hated getting stomped like that, but I had to know that I wasn't going to be able to beat someone with real training on my first attempt.

Still sucked though.

"She has to actually hit you or your not going to get any better at taking hits while you reinforce." Archer opined, a malicious grin on his face.

Oh no. No please no.

Completely opposite to my inner monologue - which was trying to get off the bus before it crashed but had found there were no exits - I sighed and pointed an accusatory finger at Jasmine.

"You… you actually have to hit my sis." I said with all the fervor of a man signing his death warrant.

"You don't have your aura though." Jasmine pointed out, her head tilting to one side like I'd just asked her to punt a puppy across a field. I had to firmly clamp down on the impulse to ask if _she_ might fix that, but since I had no idea what the process actually entailed - my family was very firm on that - I didn't know if she could actually do it. More importantly, if she could, _would she?_ It was one thing to humour me with the sparring, but she'd be in big trouble if she did something as blatantly against our parents wishes as unlocking my aura.

So instead I said "Trust me." and walked over to pick up my shield once more.

The second fight was over even faster than the first. Jasmine charged me again, and in anticipation of her knocking my shield away I angled it outward so the strike would glance off instead of tearing the armament away from me.

Too bad Jas was smarter than to do the same thing twice in a row.

Instead of lashing out at my shield, she dropped to the floor, one of her tonfa protecting her forearm and somehow lowering the resistance and friction that _should_ have stopped her sliding kick from being a viable tactic. She bowledge into my exposed legs like a comet, knocking them out from under me. If that was the worst of it then it would be fine, but she wasn't done yet. In the split second of hang time where I was in the air above her, she twisted - the motion enough to allow her to rotate her body in time to ram her other tonfa into my torso. I could actually _feel_ the point at which my skins newfound toughness absorbed the impact and prevented my ribs from detonating.

Instead my body rocketed away from the unnaturally fast and strong strike, flinging me several feet away to roll through the cut grass of our yard. I heaved a gasp of breath that I hadn't realized I'd been holding when I finally came to a stop.

"Okay… so… don't trust me… that much…" I wheezed from my spot on the ground.

Jasmine skipped over with a quizzical look on her face, like she'd just experienced something new and wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Are you wearing armor under your sweater?" she queried, bending over to lift the hem of my sweatshirt and frowning when the only thing underneath was her brothers pasty body and a quickly spreading bruise.

"Just… really… tough…" I said, still short of breath.

"Jauney, do you even know how to fight?" she eventually asked, her little head bobbing left and right like she was trying to shake free a thought that had gotten stuck in it.

"Not… at all…" I acknowledged. Left unsaid was the fact that I hadn't exactly been given the opportunity to learn. Hell, bullies didn't even bother me enough in school to learn _that way_ because one or more of my sisters was pretty much always present. In a lot of cases it wasn't even _fear_ of my sisters that did it. It was the fact that every male I had ever met thought I would make a wonderful gateway into their pants. I even used to try and help when I was growing up - reasoning that if my sisters were busy _getting laid_ maybe they'd leave me alone long enough to sign up at a martial arts class or something.

Sadly, very few people could tolerate my sisters attentions for long.

"Mm. It's really simple ya know? Block. Dodge. Parry. Strike. There's nothing else to it. Its like rock paper scissors!" Jasmine spouted, her tone getting more excited as she found a way to explain what she wanted to someone like me.

I gazed up at her from the grass with a mixture of amusement and terror. This was what I was signing up for. Months of getting my ass beat by a child who - despite being five years younger than me - knew _way_ more about beating the shit out of people than I did.

And that was just sad.

I picked myself up off the ground once more assured that I had at least managed to hang onto Crocea Mors when I had been struck.

Block. Dodge. Parry. Strike. I mentally repeated the list, made it into my mantra for the coming days.

I had a feeling I was going to need it.

-ooo-

It was with a great deal more bruises and probably a concussion that I finally dragged myself into my bedroom, mere moments before ghosted out of the tree line and began to march up the path to the house. I had impressed upon Jas that importance of not telling her or any of my other sisters that she was helping me. Of course, I had couched it as _her_ not wanting to get in trouble, but truthfully I was much, _much_ more interested in making sure Bianca didn't have a reason to conveniently stop me from practicing.

In the spirit of that, and also as a bribe, I had ordered a pizza with Jasmines favourite toppings on it instead of spending time cooking today. No one could say I didn't think at least a little bit ahead.

Speaking of which…

I tiredly withdrew the fire dust crystal that usually would have started the third element of the stovetop. It was of low quality - easily some of the crappiest dust there was, explicitly made for civilian use. Some quick searching on my scroll told me that this class of dust contained just about enough energy to expel a constant flame roughly the size of my palm. It would never be hot enough to melt steal let alone actually hurt a Grimm - but that didn't mean it was useless.

The tendrils of Prana I used to cast Structural Grasping wormed their way through the crystal presenting me with pretty much the same information I had already obtained by other means. The only difference was that - due to some prior use in the stove - the crystal itself was somewhat reduced in capacity. I frowned at that - not because I hadn't expected it but because it was annoying.

Still, this was an experiment, and after the day I'd had, it was one that might even turn out to be pretty relaxing. With some eagerness I stuck my hand out to grab the pocket knife off my table, and started carving into the crystal.

Really, there was a kinship between me and this little dust crystal. No one really expected much from either of us, heck - most people barely noticed we were present. And most importantly?

We were both going to _really_ ruin someone's day.

 **-ooo-**

 **So something I really wanna highlight with the dream cycle here is the fact that - because of the Grimm and all the governments in RWBY working towards keeping their populace complacent, the world of Fate/Stay Night is way -** ** _way_** **more brutal than anything you could reasonably expect from Remnant. Even the most blatantly horrific thing to happen in the canon RWBY universe is pretty much just a tiny blip on the radar of the Nasuverse.**

 **Im curious about how people feel about Jasmine. She's easily the least shitty of Jaune's sisters - more just an accessory to his familial problems than the cause. I actually had to do alot of reading of other peoples fictions to formulate my own version of Jaunes family - truly he is the man with a million little sisters :/**

 **Next Chapter: Bianca, Beacon, and Beyond.**


	6. Unhealthy Obsessions

It's been said that at the height of their military supremacy, the Roman Empire took no longer than eight weeks to fully train a legionnaire. Eight weeks to ensure a fighter was capable of following orders, taking care of his equipment and most importantly reaping the lives of their enemies.

"SHIT! JAS STOP! WAIT! TIME OUT!"

Of course, the empire was training _soldiers_ not _heroes._ And that distinction was important. While Caesar probably would have liked to consider his legionnaires great heroes -

"MY ARM DOESN'T BEND THAT WAY JAS!"

I sincerely doubt he would look fondly on the boy who wielded a bastardized version of his sword.

How does a place with no Roman Empire even _have_ a sword named Crocea Mors in it? I wondered as Jaunes limp body whipped past, slamming into the lone tree standing in the Arc family yard.

The little hellcat that Jaune insisted was his little sister despite the glaring differences in their strength had not been gentle in her ministrations. In the weeks since his first spar, she had grown more and more willing to brutalize her beloved older brother. It was hard to tell if she was subconsciously compensating for Jaunes steadily growing mastery of reinforcement, or if the increasing brutality was the impetus for said improvement.

Kind of a chicken or egg scenario really.

"Nope. I'm done. No more Jas." Gasped the blonde teen. To his credit - something I rarely alot him, certainly not verbally at leaat - Jaune _had_ improved this past month. He typically did managed to land a few blows on his sister before the end of any given spar, even if those blows were glancing at best and pathetic at worst.

"Aw come on, you've got at least one more go in you don't you?" I needled the lazy brat from my position just behind his sister. It wasn't a threat or anything, I wouldn't attack Jaune's sister even if I could. But I'd come to find that the blonde idiot was better able to control his tendency to address me directly if there was an obvious reminder of how insane that must look in his field of view.

I could also just stop taunting him, but since I apparently wasn't allowed to cook anything I was going to get revenge on my aggressor _and_ indulge my second favorite hobby.

Efficiency at its finest.

'I hate you so much right now.' Jaune whined across our mental link while his sister skipped - skipped! - over to his prone form.

"Another?" Jasmine asked, not at all out of breath or even really all that tired looking. She could have been asking if her dog wanted to play fetch for all the gravitas the question had.

"No I uh, need to lay down." Jaune pleaded, his excuse poorly thought out and easily ignored by his sister who pulled him to his feet before slamming her foot down on the edge of his shield. The polished white armament flipped into the air and was quickly snatched up by the tiny girl, who reverently placed it back in Jaunes hands. The message was clear. Defend yourself.

Jasmine it seemed, had taken it into her head that Jaune must have found a way to unlock his own aura. It would be amusing if it wasn't so painful to watch.

Jaune groaned, narrowly spinning out of the way of a haphazard charge from the diminutive titan that was training him. I could vaguely sense the drain on his circuits as he reinforced his muscles for just the brief moment required to block her follow up. Jaune wasn't quite up to snuff on reinforcement yet, but his repeated beatings had necessitated his creation of a somewhat novel usage of the skill. While he could move at full speed while maintaining his defensive skin reinforcement, the added complexity of improving his muscles had him right back down to his old plodding pace.

"Keep it on or don't use it at all you idiot!" I called after him, only halfheartedly trying to break him of the bad habit before it became too ingrained. I was only too aware of what kind of damage that could do. I mean really, I'd spent the first half of my life using my own nervous system to move Prana. That's about as insane and stupid as it gets.

I rolled my eyes, licked a finger and marked a tally on my imaginary scoreboard when Jasmine managed to slip under Jaunes guard to land a vicious blow on the side of his knee. If he had been reinforcing the force would merely forced him to lean on a different leg. Since he'd only flicked the spell on and then off again in order to block however...

The blond teens entire body spun as though in the spin cycle of a washing machine, his lower half come out from under him. It was all the beleaguered kid could do to shift his weight so the resultant face plant didn't break his neck.

Even Jasmine seemed to wince at that, unflinching as she typically was in her abuse.

"Please. Please god - no more." Jaune's muffled voice begged from the ground.

A calculating look flickered across Jasmines face. It was a small thing, and something she made a point of hiding from her older brother.

Not so much from his invisible friend.

Much against my will, something about the scheming countenance left me feeling - well not protective, since the girl was hardly going to murder the older brother that she clearly valued above all else - but something akin to it.

Jaune was constantly prattling on about how no one treated Jasmine her own age, claiming her genius had spoiled her chances at a childhood. But moments like this, moments where I could practically see the cogs clicking together in her head while she decided the maximum amount of punishment the kid could take and still recover, left me feeling quite the opposite. The smart, socially conscious child Jasmine was with everyone but Jaune wasn't the mask. The cutesy, slightly air headed demeanor she wore around Jaune was. It was harmless enough - and clearly for his benefit, given how he seemed to love having someone relying on him - but it was always just a tad disconcerting.

I had experience with sweet looking girls secretly being scheming demons too.

"Mmkay. Are we ordering dinner again?" Jasmine finally acquiesced, the dopey mask sliding back onto her face the minute Jaune rolled over onto his back.

"Y-yeah." Jaune said, turning his head to the side and spitting out a wad of blood. Jasmine eyed it critically, and for good reason. From what casual conversation had led me to believe, people with aura just didn't suffer damage that way. They experienced the _pain_ of injury, but no actual wound most of the time.

My third rate excuse for a Master on the other hand, _wasn't_ using aura. Every blow he took resulted in bruises and muscle damage that a small, pragmatic part of me knew would result in just the right amount of nerve damage. Enough to make it easier to tough out pain anyway, which was a skill I foresaw Jaune getting a lot of use out of.

Of course, for someone with no knowledge of Magecraft, the punishment Jaune could take probably seemed borderline impossible for someone with no aura. Again I could see the mildest hint of Jasmines real intelligence shining past her mask, as she filed the gob of blood away for later consideration. She was ready starting to develop suspicions. Which meant I was going to have to pay even more attention to her. Annoying.

'Thanks for all the advice you lazy bastard' Jaune thought at me sarcastically. That was rich coming from Jaune. About the only thing Jaune _did_ put any effort into was Magecraft, and even then he only did it because he clearly thought he could substitute practice in other areas for more Magecraft. Pushups? Exercise? Healthy eating? These things were not for Jaune, who seemed to think that magical powers were the short cut to becoming a Hero instead of the absurd amount of physical conditioning and practice I'd found his sister doing when I followed her to school.

"Bianca's nearly home." I supplied instead of taking personal offense. "Honestly Jaune I feel like a babysitter sometimes."

'Oh man your right, what _would_ I do without you.' He snarled back.

I just smiled at him. What indeed.

-ooo-

I ached in places I didn't realize existed. Jasmine was a sweet girl but it seemed she didn't know her own strength. It was clear to me that she still had a long way to go before she became a professional Huntsman. Honestly, I wondered how she hadn't been accidentally shattering objects left and right the way she threw her aura enhanced strength around. The more I thought about it the more I had to agree with the unspoken rule that people with aura not interact with the public too much. We were like little glass dolls to them. One wrong move and an even _slightly_ capable Huntsman could kill someone.

Thank god I had reinforcement.

"You know your bet with your sister comes due in a few days." Archer piped up from behind me. Ever since I had acquired my ill gotten lexicon of magical knowledge he had been curious quiet on the topic of my training and practice. With regards to Magecraft anyway. He was as vocal and annoying as ever with my physical training.

"Yeah..." I mumbled quietly, the deep breaths required to speak more loudly or engage in a longer conversation coming with too much pain for me to commit any more than that single word. I was going to need to see a doctor soon. There were parts of me rattling around that absolutely should not _ever_ be described with the word 'rattle'. I could only hope the the fabled healing abilities of aura would be enough to patch all the bruising and... probably fractures... up. Naturally that meant that if I wanted to go to sleep without guzzling pain killers any time in the next month I was going to need to actually _win_ my bet with Bianca.

Thinking of sleep made me unconsciously tilt my head so I could catch Archer in my field of view. Our partnership was... strange. I could admit to a tentative sort of like for the guy - he was charismatic in his douchiness if nothing else. But something about him was always just a bit off. I probably wouldn't have noticed except for the dreams.

The terrible, damnable dreams.

I could barely remember them when I woke, but they plagued me. They were infrequent at best, almost guaranteed in the event that I allowed Archer to possess me. But they were so perfectly horrid, such stark examples of the lengths people could and _would_ go to in order to achieve their goals, that I found myself having nightmares about the recollections for days after one. I'd never admit it, but I was more than a little afraid to let Archer possess me. At this point I was really just making up excuses not to let him use my kitchen. I wondered if I should talk to him about it but it seemed... awkward.

Like I said, I couldn't always remember the _details_ of those dreams. But the Archer in them felt... harsher. More militant. More willing to use phrases like 'necessary sacrifice' or 'acceptable collateral damage'. It was an Archer that was at once more and less 'real' then the man who'd been my constant companion over the last several weeks of training.

And it was making it increasingly hard to trust him.

Shaking my head free of the morbid thoughts running through it, I finally opened the door to my bedroom and disappeared into it. Archer didn't follow me in. He wasn't averse to going into my bedroom - he even explained that when I wasn't awake he would poke about my belongings freely. But he was adamant that I get into the habit of securing my 'workshop' against outside intruders, and wanted me to become accustomed to trusting no one around my burgeoning enterprise of Magecraft.

In so much as my meager attempts at it counted anyway.

I shucked off my shoes and pulled off my damp sweatshirt, taking care only to sheathe the refurbished Corcea Mors and lay it gently on my bed. I really couldn't tell you if the _thing_ living in that sword was aware of its surroundings when it wasn't active, but assuming it could seemed better for my self preservation than anything else. With a tired sigh I returned to the project I'd been working on for the last month. Falling down into my desk chair, I pulled out the top drawer of my table and withdrew the three dust crystals I had painstakingly been carving magical formulae into. I probably didn't _need_ to be so gentle, but quite frankly I had no idea what the guaranteed effects of some of my modifications would do. None of the knowledge I had was practical in nature. It was like being told the chemical composition of milk and then being told to make butter. In a sense the two things were related, but only in that both things had the word milk in them. So I was being very careful with what I was doing.

Basing my work on Archer's assurance that someone, somewhere, had managed to store extra Prana in gems was an important first step for me. I had what Archer loosely described as 'A pathetic amount of Prana' available to me at any given moment in time. My one saving grace being the positively ludicrous speed at which said Prana was returned to me. While that worked for me in the short term, I had dreams. Dreams of decimating fields of Grimm with commets of burning energy from the safety of my wizard tower.

Hey I didn't say they were realistic dreams, but if I could achieve even one tenth of the power I imagined - then that would be enough. And the first step towards that goal was having more Prana available to me. It... wasn't working out all that well.

I frowned, rubbing at my temples as I stared at the three dust crystals on my desktop. One fire (from the stove), one light (from the storage room), and one Ice (from the freezer). If any of my family noticed that a few lights and appliances weren't working they weren't being overly vocal about it - though I suppose that's probably because they didn't really use them in the first place.

I had found success in my quest for power storage fairly early. With some effort the hastily constructed formula I had first scratched into the fire stone - one designed to fortify whatever it was on, like a long term variety of reinforcement - had been more than a little successful. When I had used structural grasp on the little red stone, the amount of Prana I determined it could hold had nearly tripled, and it's energy output had increased to something closer to a weapons grade dust crystal than the heater for a stove.

Unfortunately that was the limit of my success. To be sure, the light and ice crystals had shown a similar increase in output - one strobing me blind and then blowing the light it powered, and the other freezing every object under its influence solid in mere seconds - but that was it. My successes had ended within the first three days of experimentation. Nothing I tried after that had allowed me to actually store Prana in the dust crystals. I could put Prana into them, which resulted in a vast strengthening of the stones effects - but that was it. The second I turned away from one of them the Prana inside it would wash away like sand at the beach, completely invalidating the exercise.

Worse still, Archer had nearly no advise to give me on the subject. It seemed this 'friend' of his that I was trying to emulate wasn't exactly open with their secrets. Selfish bastard.

With a murmured prayer that today I made it work, I pushed forward with my research. Fairly quickly I found myself blinking away the blurriness in my vision. A side effect of sleeping only a few hours each night. As was my habit when the dizziness started to come on I paused in my prodding of the gems on the table, retracted my Prana, and waited for the moment to pass.

Archer wasn't very descriptive of how Jewelcraft worked but he was pretty specific about how some of the results could be... explosive.

Deep breathing was the only sound in the room while I tried to wrangle my waning focus. I felt my eyes, bloodshot and dry from the detailed work I had been doing, slowly drift shut. Just for a moment. I wasn't going to sleep I was just -

 _"Are you even listening to me third rate?!"_

I started suddenly, my head whipping around and my heart hammering in my chest.

The sun had traveled almost completely across the sky by now, and I had to fight down the anger I felt at how much time was wasted during that impromptu nap.

Magus? What a joke. I was barely conscious.

Sending another prayer skyward I hastily returned to my work. After all - I already knew what I wanted to do was possible. Archer had as much as confirmed it. And if it could be done -

I was going to do it.

-ooo-

"I just don't get why we can't give Jaune a chance!" I complained. It was an effort of considerable will that allowed me to keep _most_ of my animosity out of the statement.

"Jas you -" Bianca started from her position at the dinner table, a distracted look on her face as she prodded her pizza with distaste. The fact that _my_ favourite toppings were Bianca's least favourite was not a coincidence. Not that Jaune would ever notice such a detail.

"No! Don't use my nickname just because you think it can diminish my argument." I snapped. I hated this. Hated that this was the most I could do for my older brother, who finally seemed to be getting what he wanted out of life. Hated that I was shuttled into Huntsman training before I was old enough to think about it. Hated that Jaune was somehow too 'fragile' and 'special' to be allowed to follow his own dreams.

Hated my family in general really.

Bianca pursed her lips and put down the pizza she had been trying to force herself to eat. The minor inconvenience was satisfying in the extreme.

"Nobodies even _home_ anymore! At least if he gets his license we can get him on one of our sisters teams!" I contested hotly before taking a bite of the meattarian I held.

"I mean honestly, when I go to Beacon are you just going to retire so you can always make sure someone is watching him? Hes a grown man Bee!" The nickname, I thought, was a nice touch. Me and Jaune used to call her that all the time growing up. Before she'd turned into such a colossal bitch at least.

The fact that Jaune never used it anymore didn't escape anyone's notice.

"You don't understand what your talking about!" Bianca snapped finally, her temper overpowering the facade of calm she used to conceal her frustrations.

Oh?

"Oh? So there's a reason forthcoming then?" I didn't bother walking back my vocabulary or acting dumber than I was. Only Jaune really believed it. There was something decidedly strange about lying to the only person in the family I actuay cared about. But the simpler times were somehow just... better. More familial. The rest of our sisters were practically Atlesian Military for how dedicated they were to the chain of command. Do what mom says. In her absence do what Bianca says. Etc down the chain.

"Your too young to - " Bianca started, settling down somewhat.

"Don't." I warned, with a roll of my eyes. Seriously, the age thing _only_ comes up when I start to disagree with someone.

"Jaune is... special." Bianca tried again.

"Uselessly vague." I interjected. Bianca looked like she was going to try again then faltered. I clicked my tongue against my teeth in irritation when a second floor door opened and Jaune's lumbering gait started its way down the stairs.

Bianca's mouth clacked audibly shut, leaving the both of us staring across the table at each other in cold silence.

Jaune eventually wandered into the room like a zombie, stumbling over to the pizza box on the table and haphazardly dredging a slice away that lost nearly half its cheese to gravity before it made it to his mouth.

Mentally taking stock of the situation I shrunk into my seat and turned my eyes upwards to him.

'If you had just stayed in your room a little longer I might have actually gotten somewhere you stupid brother you' was what I thought.

"Heya Jauney! You okay? You look sick." Was what I _actually_ said.

Oh well. I had two more days to help and then it was up to him. I just hoped he could do it.

Maybe then Bianca would stop being such a -

-ooo-

"Think you can actually do it?" Archer asked for the tenth time in the last thirty minutes. I had stopped answering after the third but he'd just kept asking like he thought I'd have a better answer than 'I don't know' if given a few more minutes to think on it.

"Well she probably won't kill you at least." The faithful servant of the bow mused. It would have been insulting save for the fact that he was clearly using Jasmine as a baseline, and then assuming Bianca - who was both an adult _and_ fully trained - must be orders of magnitude stronger. Truthfully, I think he was just curious to see a full Huntsman at work. He insisted that there was no reality where a Servant could ever possibly lose to a Huntsman, but I had doubts. You could really only be so powerful before you stopped counting as a human and tripped over into 'force of nature' territory.

Then again, when I'd pointed that out to Archer he'd just smiled smugly at me like I was spot on.

"Definitely not." I answered him dryly. "But you know if you really want to test yourself against her you could..." I tried, holding the desperation out of my voice.

To this day I'll never be able to tell if Archer could actually tell when I was hiding my desperation - or if he just assumed I was so pathetic as to _always_ be hiding desperation. The jerk.

"Nope. That's all you kid. Even besides the reasons I've already given for not helping, using a Heroic Spirit to win a bet with your sister is just plain petty." Archer retorted, quickly shutting down my suggestion. Again.

"Probably just afraid you'd lose." I grumbled, taking pleasure in the slight expression of pique that crossed Archers face at the words.

The conversation dried up at about the same time as I finished all my pre-battle preparations. I hadn't done much sparring with Jas over the last few days, instead using the time to recover. My progress with Jewelcraft was still effectively nil, and my reinforcement was so so by this point. I could keep my skin reinforced to the maximum I could manage with little effort now, but muscles were proving to be a sticking point. About half the time I could get it right - actually I could technically reinforce my muscles and move at top speed. The problem is that stronger muscles means higher speeds - so even though I could move at one hundred percent of my normal speed, I couldn't really take advantage of the speed boost from reinforcing myself.

I just had to hope what I _could_ manage was enough.

Strapping Crocea Mors to my side I stretched one last time. This was it. This was my moment to prove myself. To _force_ my family to accept my wishes.

A tentative look out my bedroom window, and onto the fields behind the house curbed my enthusiasm some. Bianca was there, waiting with weapon in hand. Looking _straight at me_. Steely blue eyes picking me out across the distance with clinical detachment.

I gulped unconsciously and quickly ducked away from the window so I could hyperventilate.

Today may or may not also be the day I die.

"Okay. Be calm Jaune. It's like dad always says. All you need is confidence." I told myself.

"Has that ever actually worked for you?" Archer asked curiously.

I didn't answer - which itself was kind of an answer I guess. Instead I continued to take quick shallow breaths until I had calmed down again. Final panic attack done, I stood and strode down the stairs to meet my fate.

Jasmine wasn't home - Bianca having seen fit to send her on some errands to make sure she didn't have to watch the slaughter. As such the house was quiet as a grave on my way through it.

"You..." Bianca said somewhat contritely when I came to a stop across the yard from her and drew my sword.

I just shrugged in response, hand tightening on the handle of Crocea Mors. I knew what the unspoken sentiment was. Bianca thought I would have chickened out by now. Truth is, I still might have if not for the looming threat of a magical murder war hanging over my head. As it was, I needed my aura unlocked just for the added safety net it would provide me.

And somehow I really doubted just coming out and telling the truth would net me anything more than a trip to the psych ward at the hospital.

"So..." I said nervously, taking a stance. I think it was a stance anyway. It was equal parts 'shit I saw on tv' and 'advice from Jas and Archer'. For a complete beginner it was just the best place to start. We didn't exactly have ancient kungfu manuals laying around the house.

With a tired sigh, Bianca hefted her weapon, a travel suitcase sized box with an unwieldy dog sized axe blade welded to the bottom. The sides of the metal case were lined with barrels of varying shapes and sizes, just waiting for Bianca to engage the thing and start plugging rounds of ammunition into her target.

"Jaune, what do you think is going to happen here?" My sister said with a tired sigh.

"Life's not a movie or a game. A month of sit ups and the power of friendship aren't enough to save you out there." She punctuated her statement by flinging her free hand outward, gesturing in the direction of the wall surrounding Vale.

"This isn't a test, and you're not the hero. I'm not going to hold back or slowly increase my power just so you can feel like maybe there's hope. False hope is just going to get you an early grave."

I locked eyes with my sister, taking a deep breath and then hardening my expression. Bianca's gaze was less mad and more searching now, like she was trying to find a sign - any sign at all - that I understood what she was trying to convey.

When she didn't find it, she _moved._ Roaring across the ground between us, propelled on a jet of something expelled by Cantankerous Thing. It was only because of that brief second of warning that I was able to reinforce my skin and muscles before the blow landed.

With sickening certainty I felt something shift in my left shoulder, the strike from Bianca happening too fast for me to deflect its force by angling my shield. Instead the attack - which was clearly intended to hit me in the temple - hit my shield dead center. Thanks only to my reinforcement, I was able to shift onto my back foot and avoid being launched through the air. Pushing through the pain - oh so much pain - and fighting back tears, I allowed my shield arm to drop and lashed out with Crocea Mors.

The attack was too slow, and with almost casual ease Bianca slapped the blade away. She was strong. Not just 'has an aura' strong. I got the impression that even now she was holding back, despite the sheer amount of force behind her blows being enough to send me to the hospital if even one landed.

Which was the point I guess.

Bianca pushed off with her right foot, coming to a stop only a few feet away and activating something in her weapon that rotated one of the many gun barrels on it into place. Aimed directly at me. Then she paused, blinking in confusion at the fist she originally attacked me with. I watch stoically, enduring the god awful pain of trying to keep my shield arm up when I was pretty sure not all my bones were in the right place. When Bianca looked back at me there was a fury in her eyes that I had never seen there before. Fury... and disappointment.

"You have your aura." she said coldly, a subtle clicking noise the only thing warning me that the flamethrower in Cantankerous Thing had been started up. I blanched.

"No I - " I tried, not wanting to get burned alive because my sister thought she was going to have to 'break my aura' to win this fight.

"Don't lie!" Bianca howled at me. I could see where she was coming from. For lack of any knowledge about Magecraft there was really only one scenario where her first strike hadn't flattened me against the nearest surface - and that scenario included my aura being unlocked.

"Really! Its not -" I stopped speaking and jumped to the side, feeling a scorching heat pass by in the location I had just been in. I didn't wait to find out what the follow up was going to be. I just aimed myself at the tree line and sprinted for it, my reinforced muscles making the action more of series of long jumps than actual running.

I just about made it into the tree line before there was an ominous *thunk* behind me, followed by what sounded like a tree exploding.

' _Archer!'_ I wailed internally.

'Duck!' came his mental response. I didn't just duck I _dove_ , holding in a grunt of god awful pain when whatever was wrong with my shoulder impacted the ground. A high pitched screech whistled by overhead and another tree ahead of me turned into sawdust.

'Move Jaune!' He continued, and for once I was thankful for the immaterial assholes prompt replies. I jammed my sword into the ground to leaver myself up and was off again, making a slow circle through the woodland that would take me around and back towards Bianca even as every tree I passed was turned into an adhoc fragmentation grenade.

'You can take over anytime! She might _really_ kill me!' I cried to the servant of the bow, just as there was a lull in the bombardment. The sudden stop to the hostilities left me wary and I turned only barely in time to see the black sole of Bianca's boot slam into my chest.

My ribs creaked audibly, and I think I blacked out for a second, because when next I opened my eyes I was laying on the ground limbs splayed out around me. I tried to breath but found it so painful that I actually _couldn't_. A single glance down told me why. There was a visible indentation in my rib cage where Bianca's foot had landed. Each labored, struggling breath caused the bones to shift and prod at my lungs. Bianca exploded into view only a few moments later and I wondered how far she had kicked me. I thought when she stopped next to me that I was going to get kicked in the head. Knocked out to end the fight, or worse - killed by the great axe blade on Cantankerous Thing if Bianca still thought I had aura. Instead my head rolled back as warm hands grasped at me, gently pulling me upright.

I was barely conscious at this point, and was dimly aware of Archer demanding I tag him in somewhere in the background of my thoughts, but I was tired and in _so much pain_. My ribs. My lungs. My shoulder. All the myriad aches and pains of my month of training. They were all catching up with me now. Not to mention the sleep deprivation.

"Jaune I - I thought -" I could vaguely hear someone saying. It was all background noise, and belatedly I realized why. I wasn't actually _breathing_ anymore. There was no oxygen traveling to my brain, and my vision was _rapidly_ growing dark.

"Jaune. Jaune!"

Ah geese. I don't think I've made one of my sisters cry since I was five and got glue in Olivia's hair. At least, I think it was crying. There was definitely something wet landing on my face. I hoped it wasn't blood. That'd be kind of gross.

" _For it is through love, that we achieve immortality - "_

Oh. A poem. That was nice. Maybe they'll put in on my headstone. Jas would like that. She always liked -

-ooo-

I started awake to the sound of machines beeping and groaned. Holy shit I wasn't dead. That was both amazing and _freaking terrifying._ My family was going to chain me up and bolt me to the floor in the kitchen. This went way beyond my usual dumb assery. This was -

"How are you kiddo?" a familiar male voice asked from off to my left. When I managed to turn my head - something I'm not ashamed to say took a minute or so of effort - my dad was there, watching me with a sad but reassuring smile on his face. He had plain brown hair, completely unlike the easily dyed and bleached blonde that mom had passed on to almost all her children. His face was haggard, and looked in need of a shave. In a nutshell, he didn't look great.

I tried to answer him but the only noise that came out of me was a god awful gurgle and I become immediately aware of all the medical equipment presently attached to me. Specifically, the tube very uncomfortably situated in my esophagus doing the hard work of expanding and contracting my lungs for me. It was... scary. Horrifying really. The beeping of the heart monitor picked up its pace and I began to weakly struggle and paw at the tube in my throat.

"Hang on kiddo I got it." My dad said soothingly, his hands reaching up to tug free the medical tubing sticking out of me. The second it slid past my lips and I took a deep heaving breath of stale air that reeked of disinfectant. It was the most beautiful thing I'd had ever tasted, and I lapped it up, my breaths coming more and more easily as I calmed down and really shook off the sleepy lethargy I had been feeling.

"Where... wheres Bee?" I asked with some hesitation. I didn't really know how to face my sister right now. Obviously I didn't really want to deal with _any_ of the overprotective harpies at this, my moment of weakness, but in particular I didn't know how to face Bianca. Whenever I tried to think of her the gentle but strict older sister I remember wasn't there anymore. Instead, my minds eye could only see that cold fury that had radiated from her when she thought I'd secretly had my aura unlocked.

"She stayed home." my father - Nicholas Arc - said flatly. There was no inflection to his voice. Just a bleak statement of fact that sent a pang of worry through my gut.

"It - it wasn't her fault. She thought I had my aura so she -" I quickly rose to defend her.

"Shouldn't have agreed to that silly bet in the first place. She's a trained Hunstman. Your a _civilian_." he said vehemently. Then sighed and allowed his face to fall into his hands. "Or you _were_ anyway." he groaned.

"Wuh?" I said, truly proving once and for all that I am most certainly _not_ an idiot.

"Bianca realized what she'd done when she all but killed you with one kick." my dad explained.

"She had to awaken your aura just so you'd live long enough to get medical help." He raised his head and gave me the long suffering look of someone with too many unruly children. Then he darted a glance to the corner of the room, where a travel bag and Crocea Mors sat, strange additions to the room that I couldn't believe I had missed before this.

"The doctors say you should be fine by tomorrow. Aura's a hell of a drug." Nicholas joked weakly. "You're mother and I have decided that we can't leave you alone with no training like this anymore." he continued.

Wait what? Seriously? All I had to do was nearly _die_ for one of them to finally see the light and decide that I belonged at Beacon learning to be a Huntsman just like -

"But you _won't_ be going to Beacon." My dad said, shattering my train of thought.

"In the first place, you don't have the necessary background to apply - and your mother and I are only going to teach you to defend yourself. Make no mistake Jaune, we will _not_ be rewarding you for this. You _will not_ be a Hunstman." my father ground out through gritted teeth.

"There's a bullhead in town waiting to take us to my camp in the morning. I think it's best you not see your sisters for a while." The finality of the statement, the cold steely resolve in his eyes, told me everything I needed to know about my chances of appealing my sentence. A part of me felt like he was right. Like I had fucked up so hard that I didn't have a leg to stand on anymore.

But the greater part of me wanted to spit and rave at the injustice of it all. None of this would have happened if they'd just let me be a Huntsman in the first place. I was a Magus god dammit. I was... was...

Not going to take this shit.

"I... see." I said, making sure to keep the sad, pathetic, kicked puppy look on my face.

"I guess... I guess I'll see you in the morning dad." I whinged, slowly levering myself back down onto the hospital bed and rolling over like I wanted to go back to sleep.

"...Yeah. Look, Jaune, you know we just want whats best for you right? That we love you?" Nicholas said, his tone softening even as he seemed to struggle for the touchy feely words that were so foreign to him.

"Yeah dad. Love you." I said, bitterly choking back tears.

I wasn't going to see my dad in the morning. I wasn't even going to be here in the morning. I was going to wait fifteen minutes for him to leave the hospital, reinforce myself, and walk directly to the train station.

Because I. Was going. To Beacon.

-ooo-

In a dimly lit bar, far away in the much more densely populated city of Vale, two people sat. One - a dapper fellow with bright orange hair, a bowler hat, and a white jacket and neckerchief he insisted was 'in style'. The other a diminutive woman, her hair dyed pink on one side and brown on the other. The woman with the two tone hair watched on in boredom as her friend and employer negotiated something with the woman at the bar next to him, idly brushing dust from the cuff of her jacket. She did not immediately determine the sudden pause in his conversation to be of particular note, until he hurriedly yanked one glove off with a yelp of pain to stair at what could only be a tattoo on the back of his hand.

She wondered why he was only just now showing her this, and more importantly, why the other woman at the bar - a tall raven haired woman ghostly pale skinned, seemed so absolutely smug about it.

She also wondered, why her ice cream float had not arrived yet.

One of these worries was somewhat more important than the other, but it was only with time that this truth would become apparent.

She and her partner had been forced to wear the insignia of their employers before after all. She was sure it was nothing to be bothered over.

 **So with that were done the sort of prologue that sets up the parts of RWBY and Fate that are connected somewhat, and the next chapter should start with more or less the beginning of the actual series.**

 **I hope none of you were too surprised at Jaunes loss. He's better right now than he was in canon upon arriving at Beacon but he's still the same slacker moron that never bothered to practice with a weapon at all before deciding to go to Beacon.**

 **I also feel its important to highlight the differences between aura and reinforcement. Aura just straight up negates incoming damage. The characters in RWBY regularly apply lethal force to each other with the assumption that Aura will make sure they don't become murderers. Reinforcement doesn't work that way at all - and I have to assume that reinforcing yourself up to about the durability of your average car probably isn't that much of a leg up over characters that routinely punch mechs apart like paper mache. Now the combination of Reinforcement and Aura on the other hand...**

 **To answer a question about why Jaune wished the Grimm on the canon Fate universe - remember, he basically just had the fifth grail war to go on, which included such timeless classics as 'Blood Fort Andromeda melting human beings alive for mana'**

 **Obviously if he could see daily life there he wouldn't be so sure that they all deserved it, but truthfully most of the fourth grail war was one contiguous war crime by the moral standards of any sane person.**

 **Oh, and thanks for reading.**


	7. Meetings & Monsters

It took a lot longer than fifteen minutes to pull myself together. Structural Grasp being what it is I was easily capable of examining my current physical state - something I very pointedly hadn't being doing any more than was necessary during my training. It wasn't so much that I refused to acknowledge the damage being bludgeoned half to death multiple times a day did. It was more that I knew that it was something I _had_ to do, and so saw no need to scare myself skimming a damage read out that was just going to read as 'your screwed get help'.

Now was different. I had to leave, and now was the only chance I was going to get at it - but as long as I was in a hospital, I might as well see about 'borrowing' some supplies for some self treatment while I was on route to Vale.

And wow did I need treatment. My lungs were okay, as evidenced by the fact that no one tried to stop me from pulling out the breathing tube, but my rib cage was pretty much just being held together by scar tissue and prayers. My shoulder was little better, the joint deformed by the force of the blow that had dislocated it. Thankfully, I had Aura now. Sweet easy to use Aura. Even as I kept watch on my own vitals I could detect my bones reshaping, and tissue knitting itself back together. Dad was right - I'd be okay to move by the morning, even if I wasn't fully healed. That would probably take a week or two. Even then, the process was only so slow because my Aura was apparently bogged down by all the injuries I had apparently suffered during training.

Having taken all that into consideration, I quickly reinforced myself, not bothering to push my circuits to their limit for the exercise. I just needed to be stable enough to move. I wasn't planning on doing any fighting.

Making sure no one else was in the room or the hallway outside, I got up from bed, pulling out the needle connecting me to the I.V drip as I did so.

'Archer?' I queried, even while I locked the door and stumbled over to the travel bag my father had packed for me for a change of clothes.

'Your father is on his way home. Your mother is already there yelling at your sisters.' Archers distracted reply came back.

'Your at the house?' I wondered. I wonder if I could pretend my semblance is my invisible friend. That'd probably help me avoid looking completely bonkers. Then again, if Aura is a reflection of the soul then it'd still be pretty damning.

Yeah, probably better just to hide it.

'The roof of the hospital actually. I'd prefer to stay close to you right now.' Archer corrected me.

What? But the house was so far on the outskirts of town it barely counted as in Ansel at all. How was - not important. Focus.

I shook my head to clear the confusion, shelving all other thoughts. Vale. That was what mattered. As soon as I was finished dressing myself, I clipped Crocea Mors to my hip and slung the backpack over my shoulder.

'Im ready. I need to st... borrow some medical stuff. Play lookout?' I asked Archer. As soon as I said it he appeared in the room with me, poking his head out the door and then leaning back in with a nod to confirm it was clear. It was weird. He was being... oddly helpful. No, that wasn't it. Archer for all his faults was almost _always_ helpful. This was... more cold. More militaristic.

With a start I realized it was more like the Archer I had come to know of in my dreams.

And I really wasn't sure how I felt about that.

Quickly pulling the door open, it was the work of twenty minutes to locate a medicine cabinet with some aura boosters in it. Archer ranged ahead of me, steering me around other people where he could, or helping me hide when he couldn't. Some structural analysis and a quick burst of prana to blow the lock was all it took to get me in and out in record time.

I felt pretty bad about stealing from the hospital but... well I didn't really have a choice now did I? It was...

I paused. I was thinking 'it was necessary' but the thought felt oddly dissonant. Like some deep rooted part of me rejected the concept out of hand. That'd been happening to me a lot recently. Hunches and moments of intuition that felt both alien and relevant all at once. Things I would never normally consider. On the one hand it was a little scary, like I wasn't one hundred percent myself anymore. On the other, the hunches were rarely _wrong_ , and that went a ways to helping me accept it. For now anyway.

'Lets go.' I ordered, and just like that, we escaped the Hospital. The first thing I did after hitting the street was withdraw every lien I had left to my name. I wasn't stupid. I had nowhere to stay in Vale, and more importantly, I wasn't going to be able to get back home to pick up my research. I was going to need materials if I wanted to keep plugging away at Jewelcraft. And all those purchases would be easy as heck to track if I made them with a card. It wasn't a lot after a month of take out, but it was a respectable enough bundle of cash I had stuffed into my backpack when Archer spoke up.

"Whats the plan Jaune." He said, head whipping back and forth, scanning the area for threats.

"What do you care? I thought you wanted me to stay home and learn to be a wizard." I said sarcastically. Archers gaze snapped to me instantly, a disapproving look on his face.

"I know you don't exactly think the world of me but as your servant its _my job_ to keep you safe. Not even being able to materialize when I want to is... infuriating." Archer said, sniffing indignantly and returning to his staring contest with our surroundings.

"Tell me about it." I snorted. It was kind of cute in a way, that he was feeling so protective all of a sudden. This is probably what having an older brother must feel like.

And if that's not the weirdest thought I've ever entertained then I don't know what is.

"Were headed for the train station. If we hurry we can time it so we get the last one into town for the night." I explained.

It is to my great satisfaction, that Archer actually did a double take at that. Not because I planned to catch the train - since it was pretty much the only way into Vale without trekking through an uninhabited stretch of land that - while probably safe, definitely wouldn't have been fun. No, what surprised Archer I could tell, was the fact that I had actually thought through the implications of catching the _last_ train out of town. That it had occurred to me to ensure my family couldn't follow me - at least not right away.

Oh yeah. That was an expression I was going to remember for the rest of my life.

-ooo-

"Archeeeeer." Jaune groaned for the hundredth time while I watched the scenery zip by outside the train. I tried - and failed - to ignore the unpleasant stench wafting from him and had to resist the urge to look out the side of the train to see if the kid had managed to leave a streak of his lunch splattered across the outside of it.

"Jaaaaunnne." I faux whined back at him, voice placid and unbothered. He tried to glare at me in that way he does when he thinks that he has the moral high ground - which is laughable at best really. I am many things but easily cowed by teenager throwing a tantrum was not one of them.

In an ideal world I would probably have been all over this train trying to look for other threats - secure in the knowledge that my Master could call me to his side at a moments notice with a command seal. Barring that, as the Servant of the Bow I was very rarely too far away from something to take part in the battle. There were two things keeping my trapped in Jaune's acrid smelling cabin.

One, a disturbing number of people on this train were carrying weapons. I had thought it strange that the person Jaune bought his ticket from didn't make an issue of the sword he was clearly carrying, but now I could see why. Nearly every third compartment on this train contained someone who was strapped and ready to battle. Worse, I had no idea how many of them were actually trained, and how many were just carrying weapons because of how ubiquitous the tendency seemed to be. It was like the wild west here, where it was stranger to be unarmed than armed, and it made me just nervous enough to be unwilling to separate from my Master.

Two - I was _not_ summoned properly. I was always _aware_ of that fact, but at no point was that more poignant to me than Jaune's impromptu ass whooping only the day before. Privately I had to admit to myself that I had grown... complacent, watching Jaune train and live his life. This world - Remnant - just seemed so uncomplicated. So devoid of the pressures I was accustomed to being immediately forced to handle immediately after my summoning. I had been here for over a month without encountering a single other person capable of Magecraft, let alone another Servant or Master.

Yesterday had been a wake up call though. I was in a severely weakened state. If there was a grail, I wasn't connected to it - it was completely absent of its usual ability to assist in sustaining a Servant, which meant I was entirely dependent on Jaune for my continued existence. I couldn't materialize, which meant that the Archer classes Independent Action was, at best, just a way to minimize the cost of my presence while not possessing my Master.

And worse than any of that, I was a ranged fighter who would _never_ be able to respond at range. I was _always_ going to be forced into melee by the simple fact that I had to possess and drag my squishy, stupid, weak Master into melee combat just to _have_ a presence on the battlefield.

So while I was certainly pleased to be on - for lack of a better word - vacation from my usual motivations and goals, I was understandably stressed by my predicament. I doubted I could go toe to toe with another servant right now if I wanted to, even assuming Jaune was at maximum capacity and willing to let me get into that kind of fight with his body.

Ah who am I kidding? He'd let me do it just because he has no frame of reference for what a battle between Servants was like. His sister was dangerous certainly, but not much more so than a trained Clocktower enforcer.

Speaking of dumb blondes...

"I don't understand how anyone can be _this_ motion sick." I pointed out in response to Jaune's unspoken complaint that there was no Magecraft I knew that could help him. I mean, I knew essentially three spells. Had I perfected them until they were essentially an art form? Yes. Was I the type of heretic magus who had pushed my craft to the point of borderline sorcery? Yes.

Did I have a way to cure motion sickness? Absolutely not.

"This _sucks_." Jaune groused between ragged breaths and dry heaves. "I blame my parents for this!" he rapidly added before shoving his head back out the window, apparently having found deep reserves to draw from in order to continue his ordeal.

Bizarrely I had to kind of agree with him. Jaune's family wasn't just overprotective, they were borderline insane in their devotion to his protection. The fact that he'd never been on any kind of vehicle prior to this made that abundantly clear. The problem was, they didn't _seem_ malicious about it, and they didn't come across as crazy in anything else they did. In fact they all genuinely seemed to love and care for him. Which begged the question; why? They seemed like they had a reason for their caution, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out what. There wasn't really anything about Jaune I found all that 'special'. Well, there was the fact that his prana seemed to restore itself faster than seemed humanly possibly, but try as I might I couldn't find any particular _reason_ for that. It was just something he did.

The train ground to a halt what I guess was maybe half way from the city, and the honed senses of the Archer class allowed me to easily identify the sounds of passengers getting on and off the locomotive. Jaune immediately slumped in his seat, taking the brief respite for what it was and letting his head fall back onto the seat behind him. His scroll - this worlds equivalent to a cell phone - was on the next to him, and his feet were propped up on the seat across from him. I sat in the fourth and final seat, nearest the door.

I watched his scroll pensively as Jaune's breathing evened out, noting idly that the possibility existed for other people to at least _attempt_ to come into the cabin for seating. The thing had started to buzz about once every few minutes the second the sun had risen. I didn't doubt that it was his family trying to get ahold of him.

"You should throw that thing away. They might be able to track you with it." I suggested, prompting Jaune to open one eye and glare at me.

"I need my scroll for identification purposes." he said.

"Get a new one. Find a forger. I really can't advise keeping this one _Master_." I sniped, knowing the formal title made Jaune uncomfortable enough to stop and actually pull his head out of his ass long enough to consider the advice instead of dismissing it out of hand.

I'm sure the argument would have gone on for a while except that that was the moment the two presences outside in the hallway chose to pause in front of the door to our cabin. Eyes narrowing I stood, vanishing from Jaune's sight.

"Incoming." I snapped as I disappeared from view. Jaune immediately shifted so his hand fell on Crocea Mors but otherwise made no move to sit up. I was never quite sure of the mechanics of a Servants spectral form. Under normal circumstances I'd have two states of being, solid or not. If I wasn't solid I should be invisible, and vice versa. What I was no though was... different. In many ways Jaune's joking assertions that I was his imaginary friend weren't that far off from the truth - I now had three states of being, visible, invisible, and possessing Jaune.

The door slid open revealing two people, dressed in the outlandish and somewhat bizarre way that Jaune had told me Hunstmen tended towards. Objectively I understood that Hunstmen were supposed to be eccentric and lively in order to act as reassuring symbols against the Grimm - but that didn't stop the fact that they all apparently dressed like a cosplay store had vomited on them from bothering me.

Still, these two were at least somewhat more... subtle... than some of the others I'd seen on the train. There was a man and a woman, both appearing to be about Jaune's age, which made sense if his youngest sister was already well on her way to being a professional herself. The man had fire engine red hair, and was dressed in black slacks, and a black jacket embroidered with red patterns at its base and the hems of its sleeves. He also had horns, which made my eyebrows raise - not just because of how strange the sight was, but because apparently no one else found that odd.

The girl was another story entirely, black tights and a white shirt topped with a lacy black vest that did approximately nothing practical. I mean, it didn't even have buttons or fabric past her navel, it just... stopped, creating a white clothed window around her chest area. My mind immediately started making comparisons with Rider, and was assisted by her lithe runners build and long flowing hair. The cat ears were a bit...

...cat ears?

I felt my eye twitch even in spectral form, and knew if I had a body I'd be experiencing the beginnings of a head ache. I tilted my head and quickly analyzed both people, and their weapons - a katana for the man and... what my spell was telling me was referred to as a 'Variant Ballistic Chain Scythe' for the girl. The word salad aspect of the weapons name was something I immediately filed away to ask Jaune about later though - because my analysis had also provided me with a very stark outline of what those two weapons had been up to lately.

Namely, a lot of wanton murder.

'Jaune, get up.' I warned quickly.

"Mrrg?" He said jerking awake. The two new occupants of the cabin turned to him, no doubt assuming their presence was what had startled him. Which was technically true - but only because one of them was apparently a serial killer.

"Sorry to disturb you. Were getting off at the next stop." The girl said politely, if somewhat coldly. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of vomit that suffused the cabin, and it didn't escape my notice that Jaune's outburst had sent the mans hand darting towards the handle of his sword. His companion darted a glare at him that stayed his hand and I felt a sinking feeling in my gut.

These were _not_ good people.

'Jaune! Get. Up.' I commanded once more. The blonde sat up, shaking his head and immediately regretting it as the train lurched forward into motion.

'Reinforce yourself and jump out the window before the train gets up to speed.' I ordered, willing to accept the loss of his travel bag and supplies if we were able to get away from the present predicament. Unfortunately Jaune was having none of it, squinting with a disgruntled look at the two new passengers.

'I'm not going to jump out of the window Archer. They're just Hunstmen. Leave it alone.' he said tiredly.

'Jaune they're -'

"Faunus. Cool." Jaune noted out loud, immediately glancing over both new arrivals and then stupidly choosing to check out the girl in more detail.

My Master was going to die because of hormones. My god what have I ever done to deserve this. Was I ever this stupid in my teenage years?

Hm. Actually, I guess I was actually sort of dumber when I think about it.

The horned man didn't respond well to Jaune's utterance. In fact, he seemed almost to take offense to it.

"Is there a _problem_ with that?" he asked, his hand twitching once more towards his sword. This time the girl didn't immediately move to stop him, apparently too intent on Jaune's answer to notice.

"Nah, I've just never met a Faunus before. So do you like, have two ear canals?" My loveable, oblivious, _stupid_ Master asked, gesturing languidly at the raven haired girl who blinked adorably at the question. The man however seemed none to enthused by the innocent utterance, and stood up sharply just as the last vestiges of civilization pass out of sight and the train once more descended into the wilderness.

'Yes. Now get the hell _off the god damn train_.' I screeched in his metaphysical ear. He ignored me of course.

The man gave Jaune a measured look, as though trying to determine if he was a bug worth squashing, but then snorted and turned towards the door.

"Come my darling, there's work to be done." he said, gently sliding the door open and stepping back out into the hallway. The girl darted a conflicted look at Jaune before rising to follow him, quickly disappearing from sight when the door closed.

'See? No problem Archer.' Jaune noted smugly.

'Oh yes Master. No problem at all. Now the serial killers will be no problem _to us_ at all.' I replied sardonically. I immediately froze. That was the wrong choice of words and I knew it. Didn't just know it - felt it, deep in the core of my being. Because I already knew at least one other idiot for whom those words were as good as casus belli.

Jaune immediately froze, looking around the compartment uncertainly, no doubt to try and spot me to gauge my face.

No.

Slowly he looked down at his hand, still resting easily on Crocea Mors, then stood up, wobbling slightly as he did so.

No No No -

"Come on Archer." he ordered with some effort. There was a steely determination in his eyes that was both familiar and disgusting to me.

No NO NO NO!

-ooo-

I was just going to follow them for a bit. That was all. I wasn't going to attack them - because they hand't done anything yet, and because I was still pretty messed up from my fight with Bianca.

Also I was scared shitless of dying.

Yep. Just keeping an eye on them. Just... just going to make sure everything's okay.

That's what I kept telling myself, even as my feet started to pound and I picked up speed. Aura and Magecraft together sped me forward, my eyes darting left and right as I periodically stopped to look for the compartment the cute girl and the creepy guy had disappeared into.

Shit, did I just think of her as a cute girl? The cute _serial killer_. Wait no. _Just_ a serial killer. There - fixed it. No muss no fuss.

'Archer?' I question, expecting fully for him to understand the unspoken request to scout ahead and being surprised when he neither answered nor appeared at my side.

'Archer buddy, I _really_ need you with me on this.' I tried again. This time he answered, though not happily.

'This is stupid. _You're_ stupid. Your dead on your feet. And don't try to tell me your not - you can barely move your so motion sick.' Archer chastised me. He wasn't wrong really, I _did_ feel like shit. But I didn't really have anything else in me to vomit up either, and the momentary adrenaline from knowing I'd been seconds away from being murdered in a cabin that smelled like vomit was keeping me stable - for now.

'Maybe next time tell me about the serial killers _before_ I start to chat with them then!' I urged, skidding to a halt when I made it to the back of the train car I was on with no sign of the my quarry. Frowning I nudged the rear door of the car open, revealing the ground outside as it sped past, and a glimpse of the two Faunus I was chasing through the window into the storage car across from me.

I peered uncertainly down at the small jump to the next car, unwilling to let it go but also well. Scared out of my freaking mind. I was _not_ cut out for this.

Yet. I wasn't cut out for this _yet._ I had to keep that in mind or I wasn't going to be getting very far in my quest for independence.

'Switch.' Archer finally said, apparently accepting that I wasn't just going to go back to my cabin and sleep this off. I hesitated for only a moment. Sure I didn't really love the after effects of Archer driving my body, but it was hard to argue with his efficiency, and I one hundred percent was not going to be able to take on a trained fighter let alone two.

Prana gushed forth, and suddenly I was in the back seat again. It was curiously different than normal. In so far as being possessed by an other worldly spirit can be considered normal. There was a... a _power_ there that I wasn't used to. Similar to, but distinct from my Prana.

"Trace, On." Archer muttered, his hand falling from Crocea Mors and instead pulling Kanshou and Bakuya - the twin falchions - from thing air. I tried to focus on how he'd done it, how the Prana had moved to produce the effect. It was an effort in... not quite futility. I could _tell_ what he'd done. It was like casting Structural Grasp in reverse, but instead of learning everything about your subject you sort of inflicted it on reality around you. Yeah, _inflict_ sounded like the right choice of words. Like Tracing was a scar on existence, a black eye to god.

But even with all that, I really doubted I could copy the feat. It was a level of minute control over Prana that - if I already had - would mean I'd have no issue reinforcing myself to the maximum. Which was ofcourse, the second thing Archer did - amping my body up to levels of durability and strength that put my own reinforcement to shame.

Faster than a bullet we were moving, almost heedless of the intervening distance and the door stopping us from passing into the next carriage. We arrived in the middle of an absolute crap fest.

There were robot parts strewn and twitching all about the storage compartment, sparks dancing in the otherwise dim room. Containers of dust lay spilled over the ground, and I winced at how much the the contents of just this one cab must be worth. The door on the far side of the cab was open, whipping back and forth in the wind, and just on the other side of it, on a trailer exposed to the air and positively covered in crates and supplies - were the two Faunus.

Archer strode forward but paused at the door, stepping to the side to examine the situation and remain out of sight. Voices filtered back to me, voices I wouldn't have been able to hear without Archer reinforcing our ears. Something I would have to keep in mind for later - you can reinforce senses.

"...innocent people on this train Adam!" a feminine voice yelled over the screaming winds.

"There _are_ no innocent humans Blake. Just ignorant ones." another voice said, brooding and angry, like a storm on the horizon.

From the cover of the doorway, I watched as both Faunus drew their weapons, pacing around each other.

"It has to be done Blake. The White Fang needs this dust, and the rest of the train blowing up is an excellent diversion." The man said coldly, his stance lowering.

"No its _not!_ " exclaimed the cat eared girl. "We can just cut the supply carriages from the rest of the train! No one has to get hurt!"

The man didn't answer, his grip merely firming on his sword.

'That's an Iai - a quick draw stance from the... well I don't know if 'east' is accurate for you but close enough.' Archer explained, seemingly no more perturbed by the knowledge that the train was going to be blown up than I would by the knowledge that it was going to rain soon.

'So? What are we waiting for?' I urged, accepting the observation without comment.

'We _could_ just cut the car their on.' Archer suggested.

'Yeah but we don't know if they've already planted to bombs or not. The girl might be willing to help if we bail her out here.' I forwarded. Archer didn't quite answer, but the vague, almost elemental presence always their in the back of my mind that I recognized as 'him' shifted slightly, a sure sign that he acknowledged my point but refused to say so.

Then we were moving again, appearing behind the katana wielding man at a speed I wouldn't otherwise have considered safe for myself to move while on a moving train. The sudden appearance looked to catch the man off guard, even as Kanshou and Bakuya bit into both of his shoulders, driving him to one knee and eliciting a grunt of pain from him.

"Bombs!" Archer yelled, apparently deeming the girl safe enough to ignore temporarily. I could see her just out of the corner of our vision, hesitantly glancing between us and the man - who's name I took to be Adam from their conversation.

'Why the hell aren't we cutting him?' Archer asked me inwardly.

'Aura! You have to break his if you want to actually hurt him.' I explained. At least I was pretty _sure_ that's how it worked. My sisters were pretty adamant about never directly explaining anything to me that might help me get my shit together, so most of my knowledge on aura was second hand or just plain a guess.

"Get. The god damn. _BOMBS!"_ Archer roared, snapping at the uncertain girl and lifting his foot to lash out with a kick at Adam, who drew his sword and raised it horizontally to block the blow, sending him skidding backwards over the ground.

That seemed to break the spell that had been hovering over the girl.

"I'll come back." she whispered as she passed us, disappearing once more into the passenger cars.

"Let me guess." Drawled the Adam as he stood, a barely restrained fury in his voice that was best described as 'murderous'.

"You saw two Faunus get on the train in your little hick town, and thought we must be doing something suspicious." he growled.

"Well you _were_ so I don't think your making much of a case for yourself there." Archer snarked back, conveniently not explaining to either Adam or me how he'd known something was wrong in the first place. I sort of wished he had. Now this guy was going to think I followed him because I was racist.

Wait. He was a murderer - possibly a _mass_ murderer. Why did I care what _he_ thought?

Adam's lips pressed into a thin line, and both he and Archer charged at each other, meeting in the middle of the deck. Our left arm swept up in an attack intended to bisect but horned man from hip to shoulder, and he danced out of the way, leaning into our guard and jamming the butt of his sword into our gut in a quick motion designed to make space more than injure. Archer responded by hurling Bakuya through the air at him, even as we sailed backwards. The projectile spun past Adam, and curved through the air directly back towards us - and consequently, Adam.

He almost didn't see the attack coming, but at the last moment the whistling of the blade as it flew must have tipped him off because he pitched forward, allowing the black blade to score across his back instead of slamming into his head where it would have done the most damage.

"Aura is bullshit." Archer grumbled under his breath, and I had to agree. The thought tripped something in my mind that had me re-examining my body in abject horror. Aura is a projection of the soul. And _my_ soul wasn't piloting my body right now. Which begged the question - did I even _have_ an Aura while Archer was possessing me? Because I didn't think I did.

A tight ball of fear formed in my metaphysical belly as I suddenly thought of all the ways this could go wrong. Archer, not noticing my inner turmoil stood stoically, watching with a trained eye as Adam once more engaged us in melee.

"Your semblance?" he asked with a hint of disdain in his voice amidst the flurry of blows and counter blows he and Archer were exchanging. When Archer didn't answer he snarled and leapt backwards withdrawing his sword into it's sheathe and dropping into that same low stance he had at the beginning of this mess.

"Let me show you mine." he growled, voice dripping with venom. Something in his tone, something about the way he spoke, must have tipped Archer off - because even before he finished speaking Archer had drop Kanshou and raised on hand towards him as if to ask him to stop.

He didn't though. Instead, at the exact same moment that Adam's blade came free of his scabbard, firing a blazing wave of aura towards us, a _massive_ drain on my circuits occurred - enough so to nearly leave me completely dry.

"Rhos Aias!" Archer bellowed accompanying the drain, and to both Adams - and my - surprise, a huge formation of energy appeared in front of us, its red hue momentarily colouring the entire world ahead of us and distorting my vision of Adam's strike - which promptly broke upon the seven petaled flower of sheer, beautiful prana.

My elation at the ungodly scale of the Magecraft was broken pretty much immediately unfortunately, by the sure knowledge that I was going to die anyway. After all, we were running on fumes, but Adam could probably still muster the energy to fight normally.

'Jaune.' Archer warned me, as though I wasn't already aware of the situation. He stood just as stoically as before though, acting for all the world as though nothing and no one was going to remove him from his spot on the train. Adam glared at us, but made no move to charge forward, clearly wary of anything else we might be able to do.

"Ah. So _that's_ your semblance." Adam mused, seemingly much more calm than he had been mere moments ago.

"Tell me, what's a Huntsman of your caliber doing here?" he asked, drumming his fingers along the hilt of his blade.

'Well that's a loaded question if I've ever heard one.' Archer noted.

'Yeah well. Can we stall him and recover a bit?' I asked hopefully.

'Not a chance. Just being in your body is enough to out do your natural regeneration rate. Its all down hill from here.' my servant informed me morosely.

Crap. We needed something, anything. An edge that would get us through this so we could pull back and recover. Frantically I scoured my mind for options but came up dry. And then my thoughts fell to that something, that _other_ force that I had felt at the beginning of all this. The energy that had never been there when Archer had previously possessed me. That had never been there - before I had my _aura._

An idea - a crazy, stupid idea - sprung to mind, and carefully I asked;

'Archer... can circuits channel energy _besides_ prana?'

'Not _safely_.' He replied instantly, keeping his eyes trained on Adam who seemed content to watch us for the moment.

On the one hand, we weren't _actively_ engaged, which was good. On the other hand, we weren't exactly safe from retaliation right now either. Archer could probably manage one more exchange before my lack of Prana ejected him from me. And there was zero chance of me surviving this guy on my own - even with my aura. Tensing, I tentatively began to urge the energy I was certain was my Aura _through_ my magic circuits. It was slow going at first, like drinking sludge through a straw, but as my Aura began to interact with and mingle with my Prana, my circuits lit up.

As in, literally, lit up. Green lines of power stretched out over my shoulders and forearms, circuits I wasn't even aware I had access to blaring to life and quickly ballooning my flagging reserves of energy to ludicrous proportions. A soft ringing suffused my mind, drowning out all other sound for a few brief moments, like the ringing of a glass cup half full with water. I felt... I felt _alive_ in a way I never had before. I felt like I could take on the whole damn _world_.

And clearly Archer did too. Because a feral grin spread across his features, one that must have disturbed Adam greatly, because he rocked back as if struck. Quick as a bolt of lightning, there was a drain on my circuits comparable to that which Rhos Aias placed on me, but this time, it wasn't nearly enough to empty the unending _ocean_ of power within me. For every bit my Aura shrunk, my Prana, my _Od_ grew.

And a whole shit ton of that power rushed forth to form a black bow and a jagged malformed arrow of solid steel in Archers hands.

"Hey!" he yelled across the intervening distance to the beleaguered faunus, even as he drew back the mighty bow with a crackle of energy, the arrow in it turning a fluorescent red as power hissed off of it.

"...dodge this."

The arrow - no, the _sword_ that had _become_ an arrow, blasted across the distance towards Adam, the unswerving accuracy of Hrunting, The Hound of the Red Plains bearing it down on its target like a ballistic missile. To my absolute _horror_ , Adam somehow managed to bring his sword up to block the arrow. My terror only eased when the mere force of the block attempt was enough to send the horned faunus careening off the edge of the train a small dust cloud forming in the distance as his aura tried - and failed - to protect him for broken phantasm.

Hrunting? Broken Phantasm? I literally didn't know those words ten minutes ago. Why did I feel so at home with them now?

All such thoughts fled me, as Archer relinquished his hold on my body and a wave of fatigue crashed into me. Worse still, the minute Archer was no longer a part of me my circuits began to reject the flow of my aura, jettisoning it back into me with a sickening feeling of wrongness the sent me to the floor in a painful heap.

I lay there for a few minutes twisting and writhing uncomfortably before finally settling down, painfully aware that I had to get back to my cabin before we reached the next stop. There was no way I was going to get caught up in a police investigation. They'd detain me, which would necessitate calling my parents. And _that_ I had no doubt, would be a shit show.

I never did see that girl - Blake - come back. Maybe that's because she ran away, and maybe that's because I hobbled back to my cabin, and she forgot me in the aftermath. Either way, I was happy to be done with the whole ordeal - even if I really didn't like the needle full of aura boosting chemicals it forced me to use after the fact.

World ending magical war? Fine. Run away from home? Fine. Three inch long needle? Pass.

Man, I could not _wait_ to get to Vale so life could calm down some.

Hopefully anyway.

 _ **-ooo-**_

 _ **I think its worth noting that if Archer seems less driven or goal oriented here - its because he doesn't really have a reason to be here. If you assume all he wants out of a grail war is to kill shirou, then being on remnant makes that impossible even if you assume there is a grail to be won. After all, the grail might grant wishes, but I sincerely doubt the power it grants would be enough to beat out the Counter Force and allow EMIYA to break his contract with it. If it could, then Archer would have actually tried to win one of the many versions of the Fuyuki War he was summoned too.**_

 _ **Which is another thing. Theoretically, Archer would never be summoned to any war**_ ** _except the 5th grail war. He's not worshipped, and only by dint of the catalyst that saved shirous life is he allowed to be sumoned. He's literally a nobody outside the confines of that war. Being summoned somewhere else is probably extremely jarring for him, and I tried to address that slightly here by pointing out that - to him - this whole remnant thing is pretty much a vacation._**

 _ **I'm trying to find a balance between Archer being helpful and staying hands off with Jaune, for two reasons - one, purely narratively, I don't want to just replace Jaune with Archer, even if the unique nature of his summoning provides for some bleed over. two, Archer comes from a world that follows a masquerade. Hide magic from the public yadda yadda. Rule of thumb in the Fate universe is to outright murder and civies that see magecraft at work to keep the clocktower off your back. Its a pretty hard habit to break, and since Archer rightly assumes that bringing a servant to an entirely trivial situation is useless overkill, he just wont be bothered to intervene in things like school spars or fights that are relatively safe for Jaune.**_

 _ **Finally, there is a valid reason for Jaune's family being so shitty, but it'd be a pretty boring story if I just up an explained it now wouldn't it?**_

 ** _Oh and as always, thanks for reading._**


	8. Embroiled in Encounters

As it turned out, while I did manage to avoid being arrested for anything - I didn't quite manage to avoid the attention of the police. Thankfully, there wasn't really any reason for them to arrest me - Adam had apparently made sure to put the security cameras on the train into a loop - starting with when he and Blake set foot on it.

Which was good, because while I doubted I'd get in trouble for stopping a psychopath from blowing up a train, I'd definitely become a person of interest. And I'd watched enough cop shows not to want to be in that position.

I was walking through the streets of Vale now, sort of listlessly drifting across the city with nothing but my sword and backpack. I fully intended to find a place to hunker down and sleep - probably a cheap hotel if I could swing it - but I had other things to do before I settled in to prepare. The locals were pretty easily able to tell me when the initiation to Beacon was going to begin - given that the school was dead in the center of the city and quite obviously a point of pride for the populace. Initiation - whatever that was - was set only a few days from now, which meant I had a very short list of things to accomplish in even less time.

First I had to find a way to get _into_ the school. No easy feat given my lack of any record even vaguely saying I had attended a prep school for Huntsman of any kind. At a stretch, I was hoping I could just climb the stupidly huge cliff leading up to the school (itself already a pretty foolish proposition I know) and have Archer show off some of his moves to convince them I was worth training. There were other ways to become a Hunstman of course - apprenticeships, private lessons, licensing examinations - but the best of the best all came from Beacon, at least where Vale was involved. Beacon didn't just produce the next generation of Hunstmen. It produced the next generation of heroes. So Beacon was without a doubt, where I wanted to be.

Beyond that, I needed to restock on the things I would need to continue working on my Magecraft. Both now, and after I (hopefully) got into the school. I had a whole new slew of things to experiment with now that I had an aura. A veritable ocean of possibilities to discover. How had my Aura amplified my Prana like that? Why did my circuits reject my Aura when Archer wasn't possessing me? I already had a hunch for the second one. If my Aura stopped protecting my body because my soul wasn't in the driver's seat, if it retracted to some deeper part of me, then that spoke to an effect that I'm not sure anyone had ever been able to get out of aura. Typically Aura had two states of being - covering a person, to nurture, strengthen and defend them - or absent because you were about to die. Once your Aura was unlocked those were the only available options. The very point of unlocking someone's Aura was to be able to give their soul a tangible, outward expression. The concept as a whole ran counter to the idea of an 'Internal Aura'

And I had - inadvertently - completely subverted that paradigm.

So Archer and I had split up, much as it obviously disgruntled him. I had reasoned that, since he was an invisible floating jackass, he could pretty easily drift around town until he found someone of sufficient moral deficiency and skill to help me with my little transcript problem. More than that, the white-haired Servant had begrudgingly admitted to being more than passingly familiar with organized crime. As in 'raised under the auspices of a mob boss' familiar. I had locked gazes with him when he finally let that slip, nodded my head knowingly, and not even bothered to give him shit over it. I just licked a finger and marked a point on the board.

Meanwhile, I was on my way to what some casual questioning had told me was a fairly reputable dust store. Dust usually wasn't cheap, but since I didn't need it to wreak havoc on my enemies, the low-grade appliance variety was more than enough to satisfy. As I walked towards the district I had been directed to, foot traffic began to thin, turning into just a trickle by the time I actually managed to locate the block of the city I was looking for.

When I approached though, I found a huge - and I do mean huge man blocking the way with a jovial but stern look on his face. If I was six feet tall, this guy was easily closer to seven, with a bulbous but healthy looking body that made him look as though he was the champion of many a professional eating contest. His jowls - yes jowls - presented themselves in a way that somehow made him seem much more regal than a fat man blocking traffic had any right to be. As I approached his eyes flicked down to me and his smile widened noticeably.

"Ah! Superb, Wonderful, Magnificent. I'm sure the lovely establishment behind me would love to serve you young man - but there has been something of an accident." He explained, hands coming together to form a pyramid in front of his red suit jacket and red tie. The coat had gold trim at the shoulders, likely to invoke imagery of a general commanding his men, and I was momentarily struck by a sense of... just rightness when he spoke to me. Like this man would not, could not lead me wrong.

I spun on the spot, perhaps somewhat rudely turning away from him as I looked across the other surrounding pedestrians. True to his word, not a single one of them attempted to head up the street behind him. Some did make as though they were going to step towards it, but a single glance and a firm shake of the head from the heavyset man in front of me was enough to discourage them.

"Um. Can I ask what happened?" I tried tentatively. I really, really needed dust to experiment with. I wanted to at least have something to show by the time I entered Beacon. I was already more than aware that I was going to be entering as probably the weakest member of any class I managed to cling to, so I needed every advantage I could get.

"Ah, well. There's been a robbery you see." The large man explained not unkindly." The area is going to be blocked off until everything can be completed." He tilted his head and smiled at me indulgently, like a grandfather humouring a child, and again a wave of just... truth and reassurance washed over me. This was a man of integrity, it told me. A man who would never lie to me.

"Crap" I said exhausted and made to turn away before rounding on him once more. When I faced him again a flash of surprise flickered across his face before it settled back into the casual friendliness it had before. I stared at the ground in consternation, gaze on his feet, where I noticed he wore sandals and some kind of white... skirt... instead of pants. It looked like the bottom of a toga actually.

And why was it so hard to just focus and ask what I wanted?!

"Ah. Uh. Do you... know when it'll be open again?" I forced through the haze. It was like I was unwilling to question this man. No, unworthy to question him would be a better description.

"Hah! Truly, Wonderfully, Lovely!" He bellowed, releasing a deep belly laugh that set his massive framing to shaking.

"Tell me, boy, for what reason do you persist so?" he said, finally finished his laugh and wiping a tear from his face.

"I just... really need some dust. It... I mean I won't say my life depends on it but..." I uttered, the words felt forced. As though they had been dragged from my lips. And yet reexamining it, why shouldn't I tell him? He was clearly trustworthy. Almost certainly a Hunstmen or authority figure of some kind. Maybe just telling him would be enough to get some help.

"Hmm," he said, just as a bullhead rushed by overhead. His head tilted as though to acknowledge its passing, but the sounds of glass shattering and gunfire filling the air were almost entirely ignored. Surprised by the sudden cacophony my hand fell to my sword, and heedless of the danger I withdrew Crocea Mors and its shield. The surrounding populace seemed just as perturbed as me, the beginnings of a panic rush to escape already taking form.

I got only a single step past the corpulent man before he waved a hand absently in the air, gesturing for me to stop.

"Worry not! Things are all proceeding as they must. Go about your days and pay it no heed." He commanded. And to my surprise they did. Every single member of the crowd yielded to the authority present in that voice - including me. A dissonant sense of confusion sent stars sparkling across my vision, and when it cleared I had already sheathed Crocea Mors and stepped back to my original position.

What had I been worried about again? Right. Dust.

"Sorry to bother you, sir." I apologized, no longer willing to waste this great mans time.

"Think nothing of it. It does a body good to see such stalwart dedication in a youth. Come, I believe my task is complete, and it would please me to bring you some small aid." The Hunstman said, glancing at something just out of my line of sight that I would not - could not - disrespect this man by acknowledging.

"Really?" I asked, my voice rising and cracking an unfortunate octave in my haste to give thanks.

"Naturally. It is the job of a leader to improve the lot of his people -" He paused his gaze panning to my right, where an extremely buxom blond woman with glasses and just about every checkbox in the 'sexy teacher' costume category ticked off. I mean, heels, the hair up in the bun, a skirt that was almost too snug. It was a small wonder she was moving at all let alone at the clear aura enhanced speeds she passed us at. Still, my benefactor stopped to watch her pass, a mote of something... possessive... sparking in his eyes.

"and allies." He finished, staring in the direction the blonde woman had disappeared in.

That was... weird. I mean, yeah she was attractive but not exactly 'stop all conversation and stare into the distance' attractive.

"Ah. Uh. Sir?" I prodded, not really sure what to do, and just sort of awkwardly shifting from foot to foot next to him.

"Hm? Ah! Yes. Just this way child, I believe I know exactly whom you can speak to about your little resource problem." He cheered as his attention returned to me. The sound was loud enough that I winced, one eye closing in an involuntary reaction. For just a brief moment I could swear words hovered in my vision.

Strength... A?

I tried to look more closely, but the moment I did they disappeared. I had a hand half raised to gesture at them, but somehow, following this man just felt... more important. Yes. This was more important than whatever illusion had spawned those words.

I was still injured after all.

-ooo-

From the standpoint of an Archer - the City of Vale was the type of battleground I would have chosen for myself if forced to pick where the next Grail War would be fought.

From the standpoint of a person trying to locate someone - not so much.

Vale had a curious lack of slums or poor districts. Wealth seemed almost universally dispersed throughout the city in a manner that I would have considered either impossible or tyrannical under other circumstances. And the people. The people were just so happy. Or, if happy doesn't exactly fit then distracted might be the word. The citizens of vale rushed too and fro underfoot, even as I tread the rooftops looking for any sign of criminal activity to begin my search. For every grocery store or school I passed, dozens of arcades, clubs and hobby stores filled the space between. The people of remnant it seemed, were far more aware of the apocalyptic circumstances they lived in, whether they allowed it to show or not. And every single one of them seemed determined to eke as much love and joy out of it as possible.

So why the hell was it so hard for me to find even one thread to pull on? Surely there had to be someone in this blasted city who wasn't content with what they had. Who would be willing to wrench apart the happiness of others to get what they wanted. Not for the first time, it dawned on me how stunted this place was. Most criminals aren't evil - just selfish. So while it might be easy to handwave petty theft under normal circumstances, the sure knowledge that ruining someone else's day like that could very well summon upon them a hellbeast intent on eating them? It must take a particularly self-interested person to make a life of ruining other people.

A crash below me drew my attention and I came to a halt, glancing down at what looked like it must be the front of a nightclub. In front of it - just outside a broken window, were the prone forms of several men in black suits and ties. They were quickly joined by yet more similarly dressed men, who were sent careening out into the street by some unknown threat within.

This was promising at least.

I waited patiently for whatever was going inside to run its course and was unsurprised to find a flamboyantly dressed girl with bright blonde hair step out of the club, dusting her hands off. I was beginning to get the impression that largely everything of import that happened in this world was done by Huntsman. They were simply so much more... emotional than the civilians. It wasn't subtle either. The few Huntsman I'd encountered - assuming I included Jaune in that category which was kind of sad - were larger than life figures who seemed to run roughshod over any situation they encountered. Where the normal citizens held in their fears or distracted themselves, Hunstman were... well they were all emotional wrecks, to be honest. Not broken or sad per se, just - unbelievable outgoing. Like each of them, whether consciously or not they changed the world around them, either for better or worse.

On the one hand, it was quite the responsibility to be a symbol like that. And I applauded the governing bodies of this place for realizing the necessity of it. On the other hand, they were training child soldiers of unimaginable power to prop up their civilizations last bastions.

I remained vigilante as the blonde called out a pithy one-liner, before sauntering off to her aggressively yellow motorcycle and disappearing up the street with it. I could only hope that the little firebrand was already done her training, and out of school, because Jaune - sweet kid that he was - would have no chance against a girl like that. Or with one.

The action finished, I hopped down from the roof, sauntering undetected into the blown-out shell of the nightclub. Inside, a slightly rotund man sat alone behind the bar, his head in his hands. I might have left it at that - just accepted that maybe someone had gotten handsy with a girl he shouldn't have an elicited a Hunstmens temper. But the sound of the phone ringing halted my hasty advance.

"What?!" the despondent man hollered belligerently into the phone the minute it reached his ear.

"Come now Junior, is that any way to treat a trusted friend and ally?" a voice, as smooth as butter and dripping with sarcasm crooned out of the receiver.

"A-ah. Roman. My apologies. I've just had a bit of trouble with a Huntress. My clubs totaled." the sullen man - Junior - replied. His posture had become rigid at the mention of his contacts name, but quickly returned to a depressed slump as his eyes surveyed the wreckage of his club.

"Hm. Well you know Junior, things have been looking pretty good for me recently - friends in high places and all that. Why don't you send me the bill and I sneak it in with everything else I send up the chain." Roman droned.

"That's... surprisingly generous of you Roman." Junior said, more caution than gratefulness in his voice.

"But I can't help but wonder what the cost of such help would be for me..." He tried, clearly wary of the offer.

"Don't you worry Junior. I've always fancied myself something of the gentleman criminal. It's really not much of a step from there to Nobility now is it?" Roman said, cackling at a joke that neither Junior - nor I - fully understood.

"Ahah, heh. Sorry, sorry. It's the company I keep I swear."

Junior and Roman continued their conversation for a bit longer, but I already had what I needed. A name. I perched myself carefully on the edge of the bar, sparing a longing look for the liquor bottles beneath the counter. Now I just had to wait. Sooner or later Junior was going to send an errand boy to pass his list along.

Ah, I did so love Remnant sometimes. Such an uncomplicated place. No schemes, no dark plots, no machinations. Heh. If I was lucky this war might actually turn into a standard seven servant brawl. Imagine that. The first holy grail war not to include even a single atrocity, and it wasn't even happening on earth.

Yeah, I could get used to this.

-ooo-

I was starting think following a stranger into a dark alley might, just might have been a bad idea. It wasn't just a dark alley either. It was a dark alley covered in graffiti and littered with garbage. At the end of the alley lay only a single steel door. As we drew nearer to the end of the alley, and the door to what was probably a secret murder lair, I found myself squinting suspiciously at my guide. Little things started to come to my attention, like the fact that he wasn't wearing pants and he seemed to leer at basically everything with two X chromosomes that crossed his field of view. I wanted to back the hell out of this alley right now and run screaming for Archer. I wanted to go back to the better travelled, safer streets. I wanted -

"Right this way to meet my esteemed... associate," he called, waving magnanimously at the steel door.

I wanted to go through that door is what I wanted.

With hardly even a single trace of hesitation, I strode forward, graciously nodding to the man as I passed. The door - despite its ominous appearance and out of the way location - wasn't locked. It swung open on squeaky hinges to reveal a set of stairs down into the darkness. Before my mind could even register how ominous that was the rotund man sidled past me, beckoning me to follow him.

"My friend here deals in the somewhat... less savoury things in life. I am attempting to re-educate him into a fine and upright citizen of course, " he assured me.

I didn't really know what to say to that - so like my mom always told me to, I said nothing. Instead, I stared agape at the room I found myself in. There were exactly three pieces of furniture in the room. A couch. A table. And a fridge, attached to the wall via an extension cord and stood in the center of the room.

On the couch sat a man in a dapper grey jacket, and a black bowler hat that barely kept his fluorescent orange hair in check. Next to him sat a woman... a girl? Her age was difficult to determine. Her hair was pink on one side and brown - not brunette brown ala chocolate, on the other. Her skin was a creamy white that was too rich to be called pale but was somehow not dark enough to be anything else. And just in case I couldn't immediately get the joke - she was loudly eating a bowl of neopolitan ice cream.

Only none of the noise was coming from her. In fact, she was almost completely silent. In contrast, it almost seemed like she was intentionally allowing her spoon to clack and clang against the glass bowl in her hands.

My trusty guide walked past them to take a standing position behind the couch they were on. The dapper looking guy looked momentarily annoyed by that but quickly allowed the emotion to vanish from his face when he saw me looking at him. His eyes darted from me to the girl as though to ask me what was wrong with me, but I didn't really have a good answer for him.

It was as though my gaze was magnetically drawn to the rotund man in his bright red jacket. Like it was the most natural thing in the world that he had my attention. The man - I didn't know his name, why hadn't I asked his name? - spread his arms wide as if to hug the entire room.

"I hereby introduce you to Roman, and Neopolitan. The first of my New Triumvirate!" A pleasant sociable expression was on his face and, and he practically glowed with pride.

Until his hands fell back down, one to his side, and the other affectionately to the appropriately named Neopolitans shoulder.

I could almost feel the temperature in the room drop, and nearly missed the rapid motion Neo made as she twirled around and attempted to jam her spoon into the eye of the huge man. Just as fast - no, faster - he shifted, tilting his head back slightly, and using his free hand to lower the spoon to his mouth while it was on route. In one smooth movement, he had rearranged the situation so that she now looked as though she was feeding him instead of trying to gouge his eye out.

Neopolitan sneered at him, silent disgust all but radiating off her. Even though I still had yet to hear a sound from her, I could somehow just tell she was furious. For a moment it looked as though she might continue her attack, but instead, her eyes merely narrowed, and then like glass breaking her form shattered, vanishing from sight.

My benefactor swiftly moved the hand he had been caressing her with, snagging the falling bowl of ice cream she had left behind out of the air with a chuckle.

"Ah ah ah. Neopolitan - just cold enough to be worth paying attention don't you think Roman?" My huge friend said with a predatory tone to his voice that did nothing to detract from his charm. I couldn't tell if he was referring to the ice cream he was now happily consuming or the woman.

I wasn't sure I actually wanted to know.

Roman for his part remained absolutely silent through all of this, only pausing briefly when he was called to by his compatriot.

What the hell was going on? Now that I wasn't directly engaged in conversation I could feel something off. Something about my circumstances that simply shouldn't be. I latched on to it. Held tight to the wrongness like a plank in a shipwreck.

"Come, my friend, have a seat. I'm certain Roman would be more than happy to accommodate the dust needs of one loyal citizen."

It was all I could do not to immediately give in and do just that. The wrongness was there again. The feeling of something oily sliding over me.

"Ah, I wouldn't want to take Neopolitan's seat," I said, trying to keep the alarm out of my voice. Now that I could think straight I was noticing how stupid this was. This Roman guy was clearly not a good person. He had a secret basement full of dust! His friends had just tried to kill each other and he wasn't bothered at all.

The large man frowned as though that hadn't occurred to him, and opened his mouth as if to speak - but Roman beat him to it.

"Saber, I'm sure the kids got places to be, why don't we get to the point hm?" He said, sliding into the conversation as though he had always had control of it.

"Roman." The man - Saber - said with a note of warning in his voice. It hardly registered to me. I had bigger concerns. Concerns that involved one of the first conversations I had ever had with Archer.

"The classes are Saber, Lancer, Assassin, Rider, Caster, Berserker, and Archer..."

Oh god. Oh crap. I was so screwed. Okay, calm down. Calm down. They have no idea you're a Master. My servants not here. I'm not using Magecraft. I'm just a normal stupid teenager. I'll just apologize, leave, and -

"Kid? Kid!"

Colour returned to the world as my panic subsided, and I realized Roman was snapping his fingers in front of my face. Right in front of my face. When had he gotten so close?!

"Gah!" I yelped and stumbled away from him.

"You in there blondey? Still with us?" Roman said, his tone conversational if a bit mocking.

'Archer! Archer, I fucked up! S.O.S! Seriously! Help.' I screeched over the link to my Servant. Archer said something in response, but I couldn't think, couldn't focus enough to understand it. The man - Saber, the servant of the sword - was suddenly there behind Roman, his expression pensive.

"Roman. Don't scare the boy." He ordered. It was a tone of voice I recognized now that I had context. It was a tone that said 'you are all children before me'. It was the tone of an ancient and powerful warrior spirit speaking down to his ignorant Master.

"Now then." Saber said with a clap of his hands. "The young man needs dust, and I believe you mentioned something about school. Roman, why don't you go ahead and work on that while I show him about our stores. Im sure we can part with some of it."

Oh god. Had I told him I needed my transcript forged? I could hardly remember. The haze of trust and obedience Saber put off was so overwhelming that even now that I was shocked out of it I found it hard to feel anything but trust for the man. How much had I told him? Did he have my full name? He must if he was going to put it on a false document. That meant that if they found out I was a Master they would already have access to everything they would need to find me - or heaven forbid my family.

"I don't work for free!" Roman hissed indignantly.

"And I know this kid can't have the cash for that kind of job!" He said, stabbing a finger in my direction.

"No offence kid." He added as an after thought. Yes! No transcripts meant no paper trail. It meant I could smile, nod, and leave with no hard -

"I should think my word would be worth enough that you wouldn't besmudge it by making a liar out of me Roman." Saber said, his gaze pointey falling to the hand Roman was pointing at me with. Roman froze, slowly withdrawing the hand.

No. Shit no. Just say no. Just get mad and refuse -

"Fine. But I hope you'll remember this later. Quid pro quo." Roman said, his entire demeanor changing to one of self satisfied smugness. He gave the impression of someome who'd just achieved checkmate, or scored a point in a game.

"Yes, Roman - I do in fact know Latin." Saber said waspishly, and I had no doubt they would be having a more detailed conversation about this moment later.

What the hell was Latin anyway?

An ancinet language spoken by the Roman Empire apparently. Thanks, I guess weird magical library and accompanying brain damage.

"Hmm." The servant of the sword hummed as he watched Roman strut away, twirling a cane I hadn't immediately noticed he was holding.

"Now then. Dust!" Saber bellowed, easily lifting a huge crate off of its stack and dropping it infront of me.

Okay. I admit, free access to dust was maybe just a bit to tempting to pass up. I could feel Archer approaching at a rapid pace, and I wasn't dead yet so... just... looking... should be okay...

With less hesitation than was probably appropriate I drew Crocea Mors and uses it to lever the top of the crate off, finding within it dozens of vials of dust in all kinds of configurations and qualities.

I froze like an automaton with a missing gear. Then I set to pulling vials of dust out and hastily stuffing them in my backpack.

"If you don't mind me asking young man." Saber coughed from behind me, reminding me of the suicidal nature of my current circumstances.

"You wouldn't happen to be a such a man as practices the utilization of mysteries hm? You are curiously resistant to my... charms."

I froze again, not willing to turn around or look at my executioner. That was a pretty explicit way to say 'do you know magic' without saying it outright. But again I wasn't dead yet. And now I wasn't sure why.

'...Archer?' I queried hesitantly.

"Here!" The servant of the bow called, his spectral form easily passing through the door and skidding to a halt next to me, his eyes taking in my full circumstances in a mere moment, then settling on the most immediate and obvious threat.

Saber.

Saber shifted uncomfortably behind me, as though he had smelled something foul, but otherwise his gaze remained firmly trained on me - despite my stunned silence.

He thinks I'm pondering a reply.

'Archer please tell me Servants don't have a way to see determine if I'm a Master.' I begged my own servant, sweat beading on my brow and my mind straying to the rasp of steel and prana that would allow Archer to defend me.

"No. You don't have command seals so you should be fine in the regard. But..." The white-haired man trailed off.

'But?' I asked with some dread.

"But he can probably tell that I'm here." Archer finished, forlornly.

Shit.

"I... might have started on that path recently," I admitted to Saber, more to gauge his reaction and stall for time than anything else.

I was expecting a sudden attack or a verbal accusation. Or maybe he'd move too fast and I'd die not knowing what had happened. That's why his actual response caught me completely off guard.

"Hah! Superb, Magnificent, Wonderful! Jaune - may I call you Jaune? My friend Roman is entirely ignorant of Thaumaturgy, and I myself am more for sharp words and polished steel.

"As such, I find myself in need of a scholar such as yourself. I would be willing to extend my protection to one such as you in my entourage. And my vengeance upon any who bring you harm." Saber walked to me and slung a companionable - and heavy - arm around me as he gave me his pitch.

My mind had gone totally blank, and not just because of the haze of trust and worship that had washed over me as he spoke.

What the hell was going on!?

"He's threatening me," Archer said, somewhat amused though still on edge.

"He can tell I'm here, but I'm not attacking him, and he doesn't think you're a master. He's trying to secure your loyalty and warning me not to mess with you at the same time."

Oh. That was - that was - who thought like that?

'That's insane!' I finally exploded. 'You're a Servant. I'm a Magus. There's literally no reason to assume I'm not your Master!'

"I uh..." I said, trying to fill the silence while I desperately conversed with Archer.

"There is a reason. You just don't know it. I'm going to pull back. Lie." Archer said, turning his head fractionally towards me.

"Convincingly."

And then he was gone again. Leaving me with Saber. Who even now had an arm companionably draped over my shoulder.

"I'm just an uh... apprentice! Right now sir. I don't... know how useful I'd be?" I begged off, grasping for the most plausible - and if I was being honest - somewhat accurate reason I couldn't be of use. I noted that Saber relaxed fractionally as Archer left - apparently he thought his veiled threat had been heard and understood.

"Nonsense! You have a fine head on your shoulders, I can tell that right off the bat. In fact, treat our assistance as something of a scholarship! It's a given that an honourable man such as yourself would seek to repay his benefactors after all!" Saber boomed, beginning to slap me on the back companionably.

Even through my Aura, it felt like being hit by a truck, and I stumbled forward, nearly pitching into the crate of dust containers in front of me.

"Y-Yeah. Sorry I just... Wasn't expecting the offer. Can... Can I think about it?"

Oh god did my voice crack? I think my voice cracked.

"Certainly! But do connect your Scroll to Romans - there are dangers in this city that you would do well to seek us for protection from."

Was he... talking about the Grail War? Was he genuinely offering to protect me from other Servants? I couldn't decide how to feel about this guy. Roman was clearly a crime criminal of the highest order - he had a hidden warehouse of explosive material in a back alley basement, and was even now forging me a way into Beacon. But Saber seemed bizarrely divorced from that. Like he was merely around for the ride. I got the feeling I would genuinely like him if I wasn't 90% certain he'd kill me in a heartbeat if he knew I was a Master.

"All right kid. Here's your in. I'm not done getting into all the registries I need to, but come tomorrow anyone who reads your information off that scroll should see competent." Roman said, appearing from nowhere forcing me to scramble to catch a Scroll when he dropped it in front of me.

"Uh. Thanks." I said, and as much as I didn't want to admit it, I really did mean it. In theory, there were other ways to get Beacon to notice me, but even then, I had essentially just been physically handed my own hopes and dreams. And that thought gave me pause.

Was I really so ungrateful - if not to Roman than to Saber - that I would refuse to help them a little, as long as it didn't put me in danger?

No. No, I wasn't.

"If..." I glanced at Saber than firmly put my gaze back on Roman. "If you ever need a Magus - even a really shitty one, and it doesn't put me in danger, you uh. You know where to find me." I spat out, gesturing at the scroll I now held in my hands. There was no way he'd had it for that long without gleaning my contact information from it.

"Uhuh," Roman answered, sending a curious look of his own to Saber, and sounding entirely non plussed by what I'd said. If I had to hazard a guess, that meant that Roman only had the most cursory understanding of what the Grail War even was. Suddenly I could understand why Saber thought having a Magus on hand would be helpful.

After that, I politely said my goodbyes and scampered away, every step I took from the mouth of the alley leaving me with a growing sense of dread and paranoia. I felt like any moment now Saber would realize I had played him, and that I would have to either run for my life or switch with Archer for a fight that would probably destroy the city district I was standing in. Neither of which was conducive to my health.

When no assault came, when there was no sudden betrayal, I let loose a sigh of relief - and hastily sprinted off for the roach motel I was going to be staying in for the two days before Beacon's initiation.

There was work to be done after all.

-ooo-

It was two days later that I found myself making my glorious arrival at Beacon.

"Ew. Gross."

The sun was shining, the birds were singing.

"Oh my god is he okay?"

And I could confidently say that no one - at least among the first years - would be able to forget that Jaune Arc was among them.

"Pace yourself, buddy. If you vomit up your whole breakfast then there won't be any left to get on the first girl you try to talk to."

'I hate you so much Archer.' I replied to my Servants commentary. I hated flying. No wait, I hated _vehicles._ Archer had moved faster than this at one point and I hadn't had problems feeling ill then. It was literally just _vehicles._

The fact that I replied over our mental link was purely because my mouth was occupied at that moment. I felt so abjectly terrible that I couldn't even consider what talking to him in front of so many people would look like.

Worse, every other occupant of the Bullhead that was flying us to Beacon was either staring at me in pity or revulsion. Regardless of which option they took, they all made an effort to be as far away from me as possible.

'Ugh. I hate this. How do you not have magic for this? What kind of shitty Magus are you!?' I complained, for the thousandth time.

"You know if I had my own body I could literally raze this city to the ground right?" Archer replied, miming knocking a bow to make his point.

'I don't -' I started but stopped when the Bullhead lurched to a halt, evidently having landed at some point. I didn't bother continuing the conversation at that point. I merely leapt from the rear hatch and onto the ground, kneeling down to rub my face into the well-manicured grass surrounding the landing pad.

"Real smooth Jaune. Spend the whole trip alienating everyone with your sick, then convince them you're insane. You know I actually think I follow your plan here. If you have no friends then you can spend more time on your Magecraft."

I didn't dignify that with a response, although my hand did stray to the single success I had been able to produce over the last two days. I had needed to buy a new belt to hold it, one that had a number of pouches and loops for ammunition and grenades. I had repurposed them entirely, lining to ammo loops with dust vials and putting my single Mystic Code into the grenade pouch.

"Quit reaching for it every time you get worried. You're going to kill yourself by mistake."

'Well forgive me if I'm just a bit proud of my work!' I answered indignantly, getting up from the ground and making to follow the tail end of the trail of new students headed towards the school.

'Heck, _you_ didn't think it would work!' I kept going triumphantly.

"That's because dust doesn't make any sense! It's entirely naturally but has blatantly magical effects! It spits in the face of modern magecraft!" Archer retorted testily. He had spent the better part of the last two days acquainting himself with the types of weapons Hunstmen used and had come to one conclusion: He couldn't Trace anything dust related. Oh, he could copy weapons that used it, but the substance itself? Not a chance.

Which is why, when I had taken inspiration from his showing on the train in my new approach to dust usage, he had scoffed, assuring me that Dust must be magically inert somehow.

The joke was on him though because even though I didn't get exactly what I wanted from my experiment, I did get _something_ \- even if the idea of using it scared the shit out of me.

"Ow!"

"Hey! Watch where you're going! Do you have any idea how expensive the contents of this case are!?"

Ahead of me, there were two girls, both short and lightly proportioned. One was wearing a black and red dress and accompanying red cloak - which was awesome and something I immediately decided I was going to copy when I was a master Magus raining fire down on my enemies.

The other girl was... was... actually she was gorgeous. Elfin features and white hair tied back in a long ponytail. Pale skin as white as snow, a regal bearing, and cold blue eyes.

I barely even registered anything else about her as I got drawn into those eyes. I was so distracted that it took me a few moments to realize she was looking at _me._ It took me a few more to realize that was because I had walked right up to her and the girl she was yelling at.

"I suppose you don't know who I am either?" She said acerbically when I didn't say anything fast enough for her tastes. I blinked once, like a dear caught in the headlights. Then my mouth started moving faster than I could consciously will it to stop.

"No, but Id like to. Names Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue." I finished with a hastily made click of the tongue meant to replicate the noise of a gun cocking and pointed a pair of finger guns at her.

She couldn't have looked more disgusted if she tried.

"You - She - Aah!" The girl eventually screamed, before angrily pulling up her travel case and stomping away. I stood frozen to the spot, amidst a cloud of red-tinged dust, still making that pose.

Oh god, I was going to be a wizard for my entire school life. Dad you jerk, why didn't you ever teach me anything about women!? 'Be confident?!' I swear I'm going to tell mom about your 'special' magazine stash next time I see her!

"Ha..hahaha!" Came the sound of the other girl on the ground - whom I had completely forgotten about during my aborted attempt at flirting. I cringed away from it, slowly letting my hands fall back to my sides.

"Sorry, sorry, I just - that was hilarious." She said, dusting off her skirt and thrust a hand out towards me.

"I'm Ruby. Ruby Rose." She giggled and I was abruptly struck by how cute she was. Not cute in an amorous way - more like looking at a stuffed animal in a shop window. Or a puppy.

"Jaune. Jaune Arc, short sweet -"

"Rolls off the tongue! I heard! Hah!" She finished for me, another giggling fit overtaking her.

Damn my treacherous mouth.

"Yeah. I uh. I don't really know anyone here. It's kind of nerve-wracking." I admitted lamely.

"Me tooooo!" Ruby answered, stretching the word out. "My sister's here too but she totally abandoned me!"

Speaking of abandonment reminded me that Archer had disappeared again when I had started talking to the white-haired girl. He would have definitely had something to say about it if he'd been watching.

"Yeah, my friend ditched me too." I said absently. When Ruby's head cocked to the side like I had just said something strange I realized she couldn't know I was referring to Archer, and there was no way I was going to explain.

"Why don't we be friends!" I added hastily, quickly moving on from the topic.

"Really? Yay!" Ruby said, latching on to the topic change instantly. She jumped and stuck a fist in the air as she answered, evoking the victory pose of a video game character and I couldn't help but snort in amusement at the sight.

"Hey hey, since we're friends and all now, wanna see my baby?!" She exclaimed excitedly.

"Uh...sure?" I tried. Ruby was going a mile a minute now, immediately twirling to make space between us and pulling a compact object from beneath her cloak that expanded into a scythe twice her size.

"Holy - !" I yelped, stepping away from the enormous weapon. How did she even carry it? Stupid question. Aura.

"Jaune meet my Crescent Rose - she's my baby, I built her myself!" Ruby cheered.

"Wow. That's crazy. I just have my great grandpas sword." I gestured at Crocea Mors, turning so she could see its scabbard better.

"Neat, what can it do?" The energetic girl asked, and I could swear there were stars in her eyes when she did it.

"The uh, scabbard turns into a shield?" I tried, knowing that such a transformation was negligibly useful even in a best-case scenario.

"Cool! But not as cool as Crescent Rose! Ooh! Why don't you let me help you make another weapon! Ooh or add a gun to that one! Ooh, or add - "

Sweat trickled down my brow as I tried to consider the possible repercussions for modifying a weapon that housed an insanely dangerous spirit inside it.

"Nah I'm fine," I said diplomatically, noticing the red dust scattered across the ground. With an exertion of will, I scattered my Prana across the ground, letting it take on the feel, the _flavour_ of the fire dust.

I had learned to do this as a side effect of fiddling with my Aura to see if I could get it to go back into my Magic Circuits. I couldn't but I could go the other way with it. In some immaterial way, my Magic Circuits _could_ interact with my Aura. It just couldn't be inside them.

From my experimentations, I had learned two things. One, Reinforcement was additive, while Aura was multiplicative. If reinforcement made me 3 points stronger, then Aura made me 3 _times_ stronger. When combined my Aura and Prana drained rapidly, but in really short bursts I could become _very_ strong. Archer compared it to a jury rigged version of an ability he called Prana Burst but was sure to let me know that my version was weak compared to the one he was familiar with.

And the second was that I could do this. With a quick snap of my will, the Prana I had made to become one with the fire dust reversed, recoiling back into me to circulate through the pool of energy I considered my Aura. It didn't give me the massive increase in reserves that doing the reverse would have, but instead, for just a moment (given the amount of dust I was working with) my Aura _was_ fire.

Not just fire, it literally became the actualized _concept_ of fire.

One single second of boiling the air around me was all it took to deplete the dust, but Ruby still stared agape at me, leaving me feeling on top of the world. Never mind that I had just shown my secret magical art to a girl to impress her, or that I did it because her weapon made me feel inadequate. I was king of the freaking world at that moment.

"Jaune whatever you do, _do not_ use Magecraft at the entryway - there are bounded fields all over the place to detect its use. There's another Magus here." Archer warned me from wherever he was scouting.

But only that moment.

-ooo-

 **Edit:Did a quick pass to fix some of the errors that resulted from trying to post this from my phone. Somewhere between Evernote and alot of my formating - including most bold or italicized words - got lost in transition. I probably missed some, but thank you for pointing them out regardless.**

 **I'm back. Honestly, the first chapter I ever wrote of this story was just a whim. But the mood struck me and I returned to it sometime last week with a passion. I've been really happy for the reviews and I am particularly thankful for reviews to suggest or point out characterization. it's a point I struggle with because I'm** **never quite sure how much of the character in my head gets across to you - the reader.**

 **so thanks for that.**

 **Some of you who play FGO will recognize Saber immediately. So cheers to you. On that note, I'm looking for a beta reader who can help me with characterization and dialogue, with maybe some help keeping consistent with the nasuverse/rwby rules even though I'm actively rewriting them to match better.**

 **Meanwhile to answer some questions.**

 **Is Adam dead?**

 **spoilers.**

 **Why use Rhos Aias?**

 **Archer is more than anything aware that he uses a fleshy human body to fight. He's** **not a spirit when he fights, he could very easily get a dumb teenager who doesn't deserve it killed if he fights in his usual suicidal way. so he's** **more likely to fall back on overkill than you'd** **expect from the man whos fighting style is 'leave a clear way to kill me so I can counter it'**

 **oh and as always,**

 **Thanks for reading**


	9. Made to Fight

Okay. Just... be calm. Everythings fine. Everything is -

"Soo cooooool!" Ruby squealed into my ear, having rushed up to shake me excitedly within mere moments of my Aura becoming safe again.

"How did you do that? Is it your semblance?! Ooh! Is it just fire? Can you use any dust?!" She asked in rapid succession, running around me too fast for me to accurately be facing her when I attempted to make my reply.

"It's just something I can do with dust!" I cried sticking my hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.

"So it's not your semblance? Can you teach me?!" She shrilled happily, stopping directly in front of me, her face an uncomfortable distance away from my own.

Oh boy, I was in trouble now. Ruby was apparently extremely excitable. So much so that she had actually managed to make me forget about my more pressing problem.

'What do I do!? Are they going to cast a spell at me? Should I running!?' I asked Archer. To Ruby though, as calmly as I could manage given my extreme state of panic, I said;

"Sorry, it's a... family secret?"

"Aw. You can't even teach me a little?"

I thought about it. I mean... it couldn't _hurt_ to teach some other people Magecraft. They could help me study dust, late into the night until it's just the two of us awake, she with her clothes sticking to her from sweat and -

Nope. No. Absolutely not.

Well maybe.

Wait no!

"Sorry I - " I started when Archer answered my question.

'You need to move. The wards should only tell the enemy that someone in the first year group is a Magus. You need to stay with them or it'll be too easy to determine who the odd one out was when the ward was tripped.' Archer advised though he sounded distracted when he did so.

'Should I be looking out for an attack?' I asked him anxiously even as I shook my head once and returned to my conversation with Ruby.

'No. Just hurry.' was his only answer. Great. Super reassuring Archer. Man, I was right, this is _exactly_ what having a big brother must be like. Constant insults, bossing me around when it's convenient and never bothering to explain anything until it was absolutely necessary. I had just about given myself a concussion back in the hotel when Archer finally explain to me why Saber was so sure I wasn't a master.

Command Seals. Archer had said the phrase once or twice in passing, and I had never thought anything of it, and now that I knew what they were I could understand why he wasn't eager to explain. Command Seals were the _mark_ of a master. They literally allowed a Master to _force_ their Servant to do something three times - even if that something would bend reality. Things like instantly teleporting a Servant to your side or forcing them to perform an act they found unsavoury. Heck, it explained Roman and Sabers little argument over helping me. Saber had been hinting that if Roman didn't play ball he was going to find himself in dire need of those three red marks.

And I didn't freaking have any of them - despite clearly being a Master.

"Why don't we catch up with everyone else." I offered awkwardly changing the topic and dying a little inside when Ruby looked forlornly at me for just a few seconds. Of course, this being Ruby - she was immediately happy again, hopping back and putting her hands on her hips like red hooded Peter Pan.

"Sure! Lead the way!" she said magnanimously, point a finger forward like a captain commanding his crew to go to ramming speed. I looked around and realized our conversation had ended up going on long enough that all the other students I had arrived with had long since vacated the area - leaving me with no clue which direction to go in.

"Er. Which way?" I asked, plastering the smile on my face that I knew Jas preferred I use when stalwartly refusing to play along with her nonsense.

"I thought _you_ knew," Ruby said slowly, a look of dawning horror appearing on her face. Oh, come _on_. How is this okay? After having it explained to me, I now knew how to see a Servant's stats - and I was sincerely beginning to think I had inherited Archer's luck stat.

Closing my eyes and counting to ten, I took a deep breath, then exhaled.

"Ooookay. How about... this way?" I tried, pointing desperately in the direction I was _pretty_ sure the rest of the students had gone in.

"Sooounds good." Ruby chirped.

And so we made our way through the school - Ruby chatting endlessly in a manner I was well accustomed to from Jasmine, and me... well I pretty much jumped at every loud noise like a scared rat. But Ruby was a good sport about it, clearly assuming it was just nerves from the first day at school. And you know, being hopelessly lost and maybe missing our chance to even get into the school.

No pressure though.

After several minutes of wandering, we came across a familiar blonde woman, who I felt I should remember but whom I couldn't quite place. It felt recent but...

"Miss Rose? Mister Arc? Might I ask what you are doing in this wing of the school? Orientation is in a few minutes and it would reflect poorly on you should you miss it." The woman said tersely, her grip on the stack of books under her right arm shifting imperceptibly as she stared us down.

"H...Hi Miss Goodwitch," Ruby said by way of greeting, stepping back slightly so that I was standing in front of her. I recognized that one too, and I wondered how many times the sister she said was at the school with her had gotten the brunt of a tongue lashing because of its use.

"We're lost," I said, trying for honesty. When Goodwitch turned her baleful gaze from Ruby to me I almost tried to rear back so far my head would have receded into my body. I felt like I was being judged on a scale that only went up to adequate, with way more degrees of failure than success.

"Very well. Follow me." She said perfunctorily after a few moments, spinning on one heel and striding away. Ruby and I followed dutifully, not willing to risk the woman's wrath by arguing or asking any questions.

As we approached a giant set of doors that hung open, leading to what appeared to be an empty auditorium, I kept my gaze focused on her. I _knew_ I recognized her. The way she walked was even kind of familiar. It wasn't a sashay, or mince, or sway like you'd expect from someone dressed like they were on their way to a magazine shoot as a sexy teacher. It was _stride_. It had purpose. And god help whomever that purpose happened to be at the time.

Wait.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, hitting an open palm with the fist of my other hand, just as Miss Goodwitch stopped at the double doors and motioned us inside.

"The sexy teacher!" I said, happy I recognized her. She had been the woman Saber had been leering at two days ago. The one who had run past us as we left to see Roman.

Too late I realized the area around me had grown silent, even the students at the back of the auditorium near the door going quiet. Ruby was staring at me like I'd grown a second head, and Miss Goodwitch -

Miss Goodwitch was looking at me like I had just attempted to eat a live baby whole.

"...Shit." I moaned, then winced and stepped away from the woman who was probably _actually_ a teacher and not just a strippergram. Before my back foot fell I felt myself lift off the ground as though hefted by an immense invisible hand, and Miss Goodwitch's frigid voice hissed out like steam from a volcanic vent.

"Language, Mister Arc. _Language._ " She intoned before I felt hurled forward and through the double doors to the auditorium. I could just barely make out Ruby bowing profusely to the blonde teacher in my headlong tumble. Students all over the auditorium made a point of dodging out of my way or merely stepping to the side to allow my passing. It was in this way that I found myself careening towards a strawberry blonde girl in a cropped brown jacket that was zipped so far down that the orange shirt _barely_ covering her cleavage. Unlike everyone else in the room - who had evaded my passing like it was a mere afterthought, this girl raised an eyebrow - and a foot - slamming the latter into my chest and pinning me to the ground in one swift movement.

It hadn't been an overly aggressive action - I could tell that she had barely put any effort into the kick because if she had I would have simply gone flying back in the other direction. But even still, I ended up going cross-eyed trying to look up at the girl who had stopped me.

"Hey! It's the vomit kid! Finally, end up erupting?" the blonde said cheekily, a shit eating grin on her face.

"Please... Don't call... me that..." I panted, not wanting to be 'vomit kid' for my entire school career in addition to a relationshipless wizard.

"Eh, do something more impressive and I'll think about it. Like 'em?" She said, waggling her eyebrows at me, and drawing my attention to the fact that I'd mostly just been staring at the toned leg resting on my chest the entire conversation.

"Gah! I - Uh - But you - Cus - " I said, jamming every sentence I had been trying to formulate in response together into one useless lump.

"Yang!" someone yelled behind me, and I let my head roll back to see Ruby rushing through the no longer dispersed crowd towards us. She emerged from the spectators that had fallen in around us, one finger pointed in accusatory fashion at the blond who _still hadn't taken her foot off me._

"Get your foot off him! He's my friend!" Ruby charged, pausing briefly to look at me for confirmation when she said, friend. I nodded once - anything to get out of this extremely awkward situation. Half the auditorium must have been watching me splayed out on the ground.

The blond - Yang - rolled her eyes and grinned mischievously at Ruby.

"Yang on there a sec Rubes - it's not _my_ fault guys are throwing themselves at my feet." She chided jokingly.

"Yang!" Ruby pleaded again.

"Fiiine." The blond - Yang I guessed at this point - acquiesced. She raised her foot off me, and I roll over, pushing myself to a standing position.

"This is Jaune!" Ruby said, shaking an open palm in front of me in an excited fashion, apparently already having moved past this most recent demeaning experience. Which I suppose made sense. She wasn't the one who got stepped on.

"Jaune this is Yang. She's my sister I told you about." She continued, doing the same thing in Yang's direction.

"Hey," Yang said pleasantly, smiling like a cat that had just found a mouse.

"Hey...So..." I answered, not really sure where to go with the conversation from here. The last time I had gone with dads advice I had inadvertently alienated the prettiest girl I'd ever seen and then proceeded to let another Magus know I was here as surely as if I had sent a postcard. I tried to run down the list of my family members for advice but came up blank. Most of my sisters had been of the impression that I probably wasn't _ever_ going to have a girlfriend, and Rosemary - who I loved dearly but was, in all honesty, kind of insane, had suggested alcohol. Just that one word. Alcohol. Not actually advice by my reckoning - or by my mothers apparently, because I hadn't had to do the dishes for two weeks after that.

Before I could drag my mind onto something resembling a track, the lights in the auditorium dimmed, and a gentleman in a black suit, with aged grey hair and a forest green turtleneck sweater, stepped onto the stage - the only area of the room where the lights had not dimmed. He was carrying a mug of coffee like this entire ordeal was just his way of getting ready for the day, and he smartly adjusted the dark tinted glasses as he looked about the room in apparent boredom.

At least... it _looked_ like boredom. There was something decidedly ancient in his bearing and demeanour, something old and world-weary that I would never have been able to recognize if I hadn't spent my entire summer vacation around Archer - who claimed to have lived a thousand lives or some other similarly mystical crap.

"Welcome. You are the newest, students to the hallowed halls of Beacon Academy. And for that, you have my deepest thanks. For simply by being here, you have proven that you have the drive, the _dedication_ , necessary to become Huntsmen. Proven you have what it takes to be among the last bastion against the growing dark.

"But it is important, now more than ever, to remember that no one among us truly stands alone. It is my hope that just as I have placed my hopes for the future in you, that you will gaze upon your fellow Huntsmen and Huntresses, and see in them a kinship, and a continuation of the dream that all Huntsmen hold dear. To be free of the Grimm." The man's gaze turned momentarily sharp at the last part, before fading back into blissful apathy. He took a sip of his coffee before continuing.

"My name is Professor Ozpin, and I am the Dean of this Academy. Know that while I have the utmost faith in each and every one of you, I will not be kind. The road to graduation will be long, and painful, and arduous, but you _will_ travel it. Because you must. Because you are _Huntsmen._ " He said, raising his coffee mug slightly in salute, and pausing to wait for the cheers to end. For a guy who said everything in a slow-paced deadpan, he was oddly good at motivational speaking. But then again, he was a teacher at a school explicitly for raising heroes. I guess it would be a fairly important skill to cultivate.

"Now, I hope you will enjoy resting for the remainder of the evening in the auditorium, because initiation will begin tomorrow. In the morning, one of the Professors will lead you to the cliffs, where your education will _truly_ begin. Thank you." Ozpin finished, taking a long sip from his mug and stepping away from the podium, before disappearing backstage.

"Mmmmm I can't _wait!_ " Ruby yelled the minute Ozpin left the stage. She practically vibrated with energy, hopping from foot to foot like she had to go to the bathroom.

"Right?! Come on Rubes, let's go change and get some beauty sleep." Yang agreed heartily, eyeing me as she stretched an arm around Ruby's shoulders to lead her away.

"Catch ya later _vomit boy_ " She called over her shoulder at me, as the two disappeared into the crowd. For a moment I thought it pretty rude that they just abandoned me - and then an overwhelming number of the people in the auditorium began to start undressing. I started to feel a twitch developing in my eye, and opted to ignore the apparent mass swap to pyjamas. I didn't have anything that could qualify as sleepwear since I mostly just slept in the buff - or in boxers if I was expecting someone to explode into my room in the morning, which was pretty much always.

And there was no way my scrawny ass was getting undressed around these people. All around me toned, muscular bodies were moving around preparing for sleep. I wasn't _fat_ by any means, and the last month of getting myself beat up by Jasmine had definitely helped with my overall physique, but there was no reality where I was going to match up favourably against people who had probably been pumping iron all their lives.

So instead I retreated to a corner of the room that no one was in, and pulled my hood up to cover my eyes, resting my head on my backpack as best as I could manage.

'Archer? Updates?' I called into the ether.

'I got nothing. I'm not an Assassin _or_ a very good Magus. There are bounded fields all over the school, but they're mainly in areas students traverse like hallways and classrooms.' Archer told me.

'So the other Magus is a student?' I said, relaxing. Sure it would still suck, especially if they were a Master - but it'd be better than having one of the staff gunning for me.

'Don't count on it. There's a bunch of weird crap going on in this school. There are fields around the classrooms for detecting Servant's in astral form by the way.'

'So what? It's not like I need you for history class. I can do math just fine thanks.' I sniped at him.

'Jaune you idiot. This is a _combat_ school. Half the classrooms are just concrete boxes with bloodstains on them.' Archer informed me, and I instantly blanched.

'Wait so...'

'I won't be helping you in your combat classes no. Not even by giving you advice.'

He said it so smugly it made my teeth hurt. I knew he had no intention of helping me fight the other kids - that wouldn't really help me get better. The point of school was to learn after all. But he still managed to phrase it in a way that made me want to punch him in the face. I briefly considered revisiting my plan to throw myself down a flight of stairs and swap with him at the last second but decided in the end to table it. There was no telling if something like that would draw the attention of the other Magus on campus.

Assuming it was just _one_.

'Oh and there's something else you should know. It looks pretty hush hush so don't tell anyone about it but...' Archer trailed off, and I was immediately curious. There wasn't much that could leave Archer at a loss for words.

'Well, there's a dead girl frozen in the basement.' He said nonchalantly.

'...What?'

-ooo-

The next morning found me standing on a cliff overlooking an immense forest. The trees stretched as far as I could see, and the sea of green was broken only by a jagged mountain sticking out of the center of the foliage like the tooth of a great beast left to rot where it had fallen.

"The rules of initiation are simple. You will descend to the Emerald Forest, where you will proceed to make your way towards the ruins in the heart of the wood. There you will find a relic, which you must then bring back here to complete your initiation. Upon landing in the woods, the first person you make eye contact with will be your partner for the rest of your time at school." Ozpin was explaining, standing a ways back from the line of students that stretched from one end of the cliff to the other. Each student was standing on top of a square gray platform.

Except for me.

I was staring down at the thing with a wariness that was more appropriate towards a snake than a differently coloured patch of ground.

"Mr. Arc, is there a problem?" Glynda Goodwitch said, a hint, no a _promise_ of trouble in her voice. She had been introduced to us by Ozpin mere moments after most of the students had awoken that morning as the teacher of our sole combat class. I could feel a tiny part of my soul shrivel up and die at the realization that this woman was going to have an excuse to punish me violently almost every day for the rest of the next four years. Needless to say, I had done my level best to stay out of her line of sight as the students were trekked out of the school and up to this ledge.

Which made the fact that she was standing not two metres away from me despite the gargantuan line of students here absolutely maddening.

'This is your fault somehow you know.' I complained to Archer before turning to Miss Goodwitch, a fake smile on my face.

"I'm just naturally cautious?" I tried, giving a half-hearted shrug.

"Ah, I see. Well, then Mr. Arc allow me to assuage your fears. There is nothing to be worried about - please - step on your pad so that we may continue." The witch answered me, waving her handed in a dismissive shooing motion at me. There was something decidedly malicious in her tone of voice when she spoke, and I found myself significantly _more_ hesitant to step on the pad.

"Stop being such a baby and get on the pad before she starts using that riding crop on you." Archer drawled from where he stood behind Ozpin.

'Easy for you to say - she doesn't hate _you._ '

'Come on Jaune she's a teacher, she doesn't _hate_ you.' Archer said, even as Goodwitch stomped forward, readjusting her grip on the scroll in her left hand and raising the riding crop in her right. Like lightning she viciously swung the riding crop down at me, forcing me to involuntarily step backwards - on to the pad.

With a slight upturn of her lips at the edges the only sign that she was capable of experiencing the emotion known as joy, Goodwitch tapped a button on her scroll - and the pad I was on, which turned out to be on top of an enormous spring - flung me through the air and off the cliff.

'She _despises_ you.' Archer finished - and I could just barely make out his red-clad form marking a tally in the air as I sailed away.

"Craaaaaaaaap," I yelped as I flew through the air. The ground zipped by below in a blur, and I found a small part of me trying to figure out exactly how fast I was going before basic self-preservation kicked in and I instantly reinforced myself, enemy Magus be damned. Not being able to use _any_ Magecraft wasn't going to fly for me. Well. I was technically flying without it but...

Damnit. Now I'm shutting _myself_ down. Stupid Archer.

Frantically I unsheathed Corcea Mors, flailing my legs and weapon through the air. I very quickly found myself approaching the treeline - and therefore the ground, and despite knowing I could _probably_ survive impact fairly easily I still closed my eyes when I finally hit. Tree limbs slapped at me dozens of times over as my Aura clad form crashing through them, tearing the limbs apart and leaving a swathe of destruction in my wake that must have been audible for quite a ways around me.

This had the effect of slowing me down though, and so despite the pain (an aspect of an Aura defence that confused the hell out of me since I wasn't actually suffering any damage), I eventually tumbled to the ground in a densely packed section of the woods.

Right on top of a Beowolf. Oh, the thing evaporated pretty much instantly - the speed I was moving at turning me bodily into a missile that nothing as simple as a Beowolf Grimm would be able to survive. However, the rest of its pack - which looked to be at least 12 members strong, did _not_ seem to appreciate that fact.

The first came at me with a growl, charging in and bouncing off my shield. I stepped back to keep my balance as it threw its weight against me, grunting with effort as it threw itself at me again, catching its torso on my shield but being too off balance to push it off. A sharp pain struck me from behind and I leapt to the side, rolling away from the lunging attacks of two more Beowolves in addition to the one that had managed to strike my back.

I took stock of my situation and tried to remain calm. I had trained for this. I had spent a month getting wailed on by Jaz, a month of getting laid out over and over and over, to make sure I could defend myself in situations exactly like this. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see yet more of the Beowolf pack circling back behind me, and I began a steady retreat to ensure that they couldn't completely encircle me.

The minute I stepped backwards, three of the Grimm charged at me and it was all I could do to ram my shield forward into one, and swipe my sword outward in a wide arc at the other two. It scored a glancing blow against them, but despite my obviously superior strength it didn't seem to give them any pause. They charged at me as though I hadn't wounded them at all, leaping at me like mindless well... mindless Grimm.

The combined weight and force of the two creatures pushed me to the ground, and I raised my sword arm to bat ineffectively at the white masked forms of the wolf-like Grimm, only barely managed to put my forearm between the yawning maws of the two creatures and my throat. Unfortunately, the distance was such that I couldn't really swing Crocea Mors at them, and nothing I did seemed sufficient to lever them off. I began punching furiously at the Grimm atop me, even as more and more of them piled on - leaving me with a rapidly draining aura in a cacophonous storm of tooth and claw.

Shit, this _wasn't working_. I could deflect or defend against on or two of them, and probably even kill them with time, but for all my strength I just _wasn't that good_ at sword play. If Hunstmen could be compared to trained surgeons that I barely knew first aid. Panic flooded my body with new strength, and without thought I found myself stretching my Prana out towards the one solution that would see me through this alive. With a crackle of energy, I converted my aura, actualizing it as lightning itself, and was rewarded by the momentary flash of energy discharging into the handful of Grimm pounding on me. Several of them evaporated instantly, their black forms fading into motes of nothingness, and those that didn't stumbled away from me as though stung.

I quickly rolled to my feet, making a note of my depleted lightning dust vial. I would have to replace it with a new one that I fortified and strengthened later. My Aura was severely depleted - easily down to half capacity, and there were was still at least half the pack of Grimm remaining, stalking around me with wary snarls.

Shit, I couldn't do this, not without using my Mystic Code - which at this range would probably kill me just as surely as it would them.

'Archer! I'm Surrounded! Options!?' I begged the Servant of the bow. I knew he could probably see me from the top of the cliff, he'd been pretty candid about his eyesight being good enough to pick out targets from far enough away that he might as well not even be in the same city. I also knew that if he didn't have a good answer for me I was going to have to switch with him, which would not only look extremely weird on any camera's that might be in the forest - but would guarantee the other Magus in the school detected him.

'Turn left and sprint. There's someone else in that direction that Ozpin won't shut the hell up about.' Archer instructed me. Oh yeah, he was literally just spying on the Headmaster right now, wasn't he? He could probably see all the cameras too...

'Got it. Thanks.' I said, taking his advice to heart and turning to sprint into the forest at top speed. There was a Beowolf in the way, and so to break the encirclement I raised my shield and plowed through the thing - not killing it by any means, but launching it out of my path with an upward swing of my shield that hurled it away at the exact moment it jumped for me.

The sounds of trees being shredded behind me became the soundtrack to my escape as the other half of the Beowolf pack gave chase, determined to get their pound of flesh. And with a start, I realized that these things were somehow _way_ faster than me. What the hell? I had been able to run away from a single Beowolf back home just fine so why -

Ah. Right. Beowolves. They get stronger and faster the more of them there are. Because they're pack animals. Or... based on them anyway. No idea why things that don't eat or sleep exhibit pack behaviour.

Lurching forward I narrowly avoided a clawed hand that swiped at my head, and focused on my Prana, temporarily running it through my Aura unaltered and coating myself in the new energy that resulted.

I'd like to say I rocketed into the upcoming clearing like a hero, slid to a stop in front of the red-haired and golden armoured woman that was watching me with sudden interest and then whirled on the pack to begin mortal combat with my new ally at my side.

Unfortunately, there was a pretty big ass tree in my way when my head came back up, so what _actually_ happened, was the force of my leap sent me _through_ said tree. Shards of wood and bundles of leaves flew out in every direction, and I instantly lost my balance, spinning through the air to land on my face only a few feet away from the girl. It was a landing position that would have probably broken my neck if I didn't have my aura - which was down to about thirty percent at this point.

The girl peered down at me as I righted myself with a relaxed curiosity that belied the six or seven Grimm bearing down on us. Actually, for a moment I thought she was just going to ignore them entirely, but our eyes met brilliant green eyes gazing down at me, beautiful in their coldness. They -

 _"I ask of you - "_

My world fuzzed over for a moment, static filling my vision. When it cleared, the redhead was sprinting ahead towards the oncoming Grimm, her lithe frame drawing a shield and a spear that she immediately piercing the first Grimm in the group with by ducking under its charge and expertly jabbing upwards into its exposed belly. The thing evaporated instantly, and she continued forward as it had never been there, hurling her shield to the left at one and sweeping her spear right at another. The shield bounced off the head of the first creature, stopping it mid-flight, and then returned to the girl's outstretched hand, which immediately came back around to drive the hard edge of the defensive armament into the throat of another Beowolf that likewise disappeared into nothingness at the ferocity and precision of the attack.

Holy shit. She wasn't fighting the Grimm, she was _dismantling_ them. She didn't even look all that put out by the exertion. Hell her _hair_ was still perfectly held in place.

Faster than I thought should have been possible for a non-Servant, the Beowolf pack that had given me such trouble had been entirely vanquished, and the golden armoured warrior twirled her spear back into a resting position like she had merely been dancing and was now done with the activity. When she turned to me, I was still on the ground, kneeling where I had pushed myself up to stare at the insane feat of skill she had just displayed.

"Are you all right?" She said jogging easily over to me, a hand outstretched to help me up.

"Yeah. Sorry about that." I stammered out, taking her hand and rising to my feet. Instead of immediately releasing her hand though, I shook it once and nodded at her in appreciation. Once I was standing I realized how much taller than her I was - not that that really meant anything. It was just so amazing to me that such a small woman could be so _powerful_. I mean, it really shouldn't given my family history but -

 _"Are you, my master?"_

Her lips were moving, and I knew she was speaking, but for the life of me I couldn't figure out what she was saying. I felt like I was having a stroke or something. I frowned, blinking away the lingering disorientation of my landing.

"So. Guess we're partners now. I'm Jaune." I said, secretly pleased that I was going to be partnered with a cute girl. Actually, if I thought back, _most_ of the students I had seen had been cute girls. What was up with that?

"I'm Pyrrha." She said simply, but her eyes searched mine for something as she said them, searched and searched, and searched. I got the impression she was waiting for me to say or do something, so after a moment of watching each other I said;

"Nice to meet you Pyrrha. Do... I mean, do you know where the ruins are?" I asked her stupidly, grasping for literally _any_ topic.

Stupid stupid stupid. Now she knew I didn't know where the hell we were. Not only did that make me look dumb as hell, it meant I couldn't cheat and ask Archer without having to explain why I suddenly knew where we were going. Damnit.

"No, but I had assumed moving towards the mountain would be a wise decision." She answered, a contented smile popping up on her face as though I had asked the right question. Okay. This was good. I was off to a good start.

"Shall we _partner?_ " I said, motioning towards the mountains with confidence - even though inwardly I was cringing. The emphasis I had put on the word partner was weird. She was going to think I was weird. Damnit Dad how did you even get tickets to _watch_ the gene pool let alone get in!?

"After you." She answered me playfully - either not catching, or not minding my weirdly intimate inflection.

Thank god for small favours.

It wasn't too much later that Pyrrha and I found ourselves exiting the forest to find a cave entrance, with a sign in front of it that I couldn't really make heads or tails of. I already knew we were going in vaguely the right direction, even if we were on the right side of the mountain yet, and I eyed the cave with some trepidation, more than a little hesitant to wander into an unknown location in the middle of a forest.

"Hey Pyrrha, check this out," I said, pointing at the sign I had been standing in front of and stepping aside so Pyrrha could get a better look at it.

The sign was childlike in its simplicity. Part of it was faded and hard to make out, but the part that _was_ clear was of a stick figure walking towards something.

"Maybe it means we're going in the right direction?" Pyrrha said hopefully.

"Good enough for me I guess," I said, not meaning a single word of it.

"Jaune, your shaking." Pyrrha pointed out with a girlish giggle that nearly made me forget she could probably kill me with one hand.

"I don't like dark caves okay!?" I defended, not willing to admit that I was actually just worried the next set of Grimm we fought was going to take what remained of my Aura and kill me before I ever started my first class at Beacon.

"Come on, I'll go first," she said, still laughing at me. It felt... comfortable. Like we'd known each other for much longer than we actually had. Or rather, like both of us were so unused to being around people that finding out neither one of us was secretly a serial killer or something had torn down some barrier that would normally have been present when meeting someone new.

Then again, meeting in the middle of a life or death situation will do that, won't it? I guess this is why partners are picked this way.

Carefully I followed Pyrrha into the cave, keeping my shield raised and my sword overhead like Archer had taught me. Pyrrha mirrored the movement, sliding in next to me in a way that placed some of her shield in front of me and left her spear hand open to thrust. Pyrrha's movements and execution of the stance were drastically more practiced than mine, so good in fact that I found myself unconsciously trying to copy her. Of course, I'm not very _good_ at sword stuff, so all this resulted in was me fidgeting as we walked further into the cave - but I tried.

Pretty soon, we got far enough into the cave that the light from the entryway was no longer enough to illuminate our surroundings. Not long after _that_ , we found it. Glowing orange light in the center of the cave. The glow was curiously contained, somehow not shedding light on any of its surroundings despite its obvious brightness, and I stepped towards it without hesitation. I was ready to grab this thing and get the _hell_ out of this forest.

"Jaune wait-!" Pyrrha called too late. Because as I put my shield out to touch the orange thing, eight smaller dots of red light appeared ahead of me. And the orange thing began to move. Suprised I jumped forward to grab the relic I was immediately punished for it as the orange thing whipped backwards, pulling me off my feet to the accompanying sound of rocks crumbling underfoot.

In the murky darkness I could just make out Pyrrha as she stared aghast at me, but then everything was moving and it was all I could do to hang tight to what I was beginning to think probably _wasn't_ the relic we were looking for. Whatever it was I was holding on to, it sped forward, chasing after Pyrrha who lobbed her returning shield at it once before opting simply to sprint away towards the light and presumably, a greater ability to tell what the hell was going on.

The minute the thing I was on exited the cave I immediately felt regret grow in my heart. I didn't know how - but this was Archer's fault. No wait I knew _exactly_ how this was Archer's fault, he was literally watching this all go down, he should have seen it coming and warned me!

The thing I was grasping, was _not_ an ancient relic. It was a scorpion stinger easily as big as my entire body, with an orange glow tinging its middle. I had grabbed and was now hanging from the tail of an _enormous scorpion._ I could see Pyrrha below me, leaping out of the way of the giant Grimm scorpions snapping claw attacks. She almost didn't seem bothered by the attacks, her upturned gaze spending more time tracking me as I hung from the swaying tail than it did actually watching what her opponent was doing. She had a panic-stricken look on her face, as though she was unsure how to react given the situation.

The creature made the decision for her, it's stinger rocketing down at her in a stab that Pyrrha easily deflected, pirouetting past it to strike a glancing blow against the thick armoured hide of the beast. Unfortunately for me, the stinger reared back just as fast as it struck, and with a jerk I once more found myself sailing through the air over the treeline.

Only this time with much-reduced Aura capacity.

"Daaaaamnniiiiiitttttttt" I screeched, my voice reaching an octave I hadn't been able to hit since before puberty.

Once more I reinforced myself, but this time for lack of a Beowolf to land on, I careened through the air and then into the ground, only barely managing to get my feet under me before I touched down. I tore a rent in the earth where I passed, leaving a meter long pair of gouges in the dirt where I had attempted to slow my forward momentum.

A quick glance around told me there weren't any grim nearby - which was good because that landing had drained my aura down into the twenty-five percent range. It also showed me that I was now standing in what looked like a stone ruin, surrounded by pedestals with chess pieces on it. Yang was there, and to my surprise, so was the black haired girl from the train. I wondered why they hadn't made any move to say anything to me, but then realized tiredly that they were staring straight up at something. Something that was yelling.

"Incomiiiiiiiiing!" A shrill voice called from above me, and before I could do much more than turn around a black and red missile crashed into me, sending me bowling end over end until I was sprawled in a heap at Yangs feet - again.

"Ah Jauney boy, you really know how to remind a girl that shes still got it." Yang crooned at me, nudging me with one foot so I would roll over. When I did so, Ruby crawled out from beneath me and was quickly pulled to her feet by her sister.

"Hey, Rubes. You okay?" Yang asked, with perhaps more seriousness than I was expecting from the flippant girl.

As the two sisters caught up, I was left with nothing better to do than turn to Blake - at least, I was pretty sure it was Blake. She had a huge black bow where her cat ears would have been, but it had only been a few days since I'd last seen her... hijacking a train?

We stared perplexed at each other for several seconds, until I mouthed the words 'ear canals' at her, gesturing loosely at the bow atop her head. Her eye twitched and she scowled at me but continued to say nothing as we exchanged looks. It's been said that people can have whole conversations with their eyes. If that was so, ours was going something like this;

'What the hell?'

'How the crap?'

'Why!?'

It wasn't a very sophisticated conversation.

Thinking of sophistication brought my attention to another feminine form that had literally dropped into our midst during the conversation. The white-clad girl I had so recently embarrassed myself in front of drifted to the ground like a leaf on the wind, gently landing and immediately spinning to Ruby.

"Do you have _any_ idea how dangerous that was?! Are you _trying_ to get us killed?!" She yelled at the smaller girl.

"Come on Weiss, we made it here didn't we?" Ruby argued back, in a subdued tone. I could actually _see_ Yang's posture change from shameless gawker to protective big sister. It was a posture that both I - and the majority of the Ansel police force - were immediately familiar with. It was a posture that spoke of violence. And I wanted nothing to do with it. And yet I found my feet dragging me _towards_ the oncoming conflict...

Is it brain damage? Is that why I'm like this? Too many blows to the head?

Before I could sate my apparent death wish, a loud booming crashed echoed in the distance, the sound drawing closer and closer until an orange haired girl riding an _Ursa,_ one of the more common but still huge, and dangerous, varieties of Grimm, exploded into the clearing around the ruins. When she did, the Grimm she was riding abruptly gave up the ghost, plowing face first into the ground and allowing the girl to step off its head and fully into view just as it died. She had a white shirt one, and a frilly pink skirt that _could not_ be very effective for battle. She also had a hammer as tall as she was slung over one shoulder with casual ease - which is why I chose not to mention my observations about her attire up. Honestly, I was getting the feeling that years of dealing with my sister's foibles was going to be more of an asset than I'd really like here at Beacon. There seemed like a disproportionate number of stupidly strong women here. In fact, I had yet to see a single other guy in this forest.

As though summoned by my thoughts, and a man with black hair and pink highlight sprinted out of the woods after girl, coming to a halt right behind her panting for breath.

"Nora! Please, slow down!" He begged I mean really _begged_. It was the type of desperate plea you give when you _know_ no one is going to answer your prayers but feel compelled to try anyway.

"Aw come on Renny, You wouldn't be so tired if you'd just listened to me in the first place and jump on the other one~" she crooned at him.

"Uh. Hi, Nora and... Renny?" I tried, speaking for the group who was watching with slack-jawed amazement. That was something at least, even if it meant I wasn't going to get to watch Yang and... Weiss? Get into a huge catfight. I'm sure that would be entertaining to watch. Aura doesn't protect clothes... right?

"It's just Ren." the man said, dusting off his green outfit and holstering the two machine pistols he was carrying. He said it like he was used to having to make the correction, and my heart went out to him. This poor guy was going to have to deal with this girl for the next _four years_. Bummer.

'Heads up. There's a thing Ozpin called a Deathstalker running right for you.' Archer called out to me.

'What the hells a Deathstalker?' I asked with some exasperation.

Just at that moment, Pyrrha came charging out of the woods, a determined set on her face. Behind her, the lumbering form of the giant scorpion Grimm raced to catch up, pincers snapping aggressively. For something that big it was really, really fast.

Ah. So that's what it was called.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha called to me, relief evident in her tone. The inhabitants of the ruin had already scattered, each of them grabbing a chess piece off the pedestal and sprinting for cover. I followed suit, yanking a white rook off its pedestal and shoving it into my pocket, then turning to run just ahead of Pyrrha.

Only, the slim form of Ruby slipped from Yangs grasp as I dove for the collapsed pillar they were hiding behind. She raced towards Deathstalker, leaving a streak of rose petals in her wake. I temporarily filed that curiosity away for later, then turned to Yang just as Pyrrha slid into cover next to me.

"What's she doing?!" I asked.

"Fighting, duh!" Yang growled leaping from the sweet, wonderful safety of cover I had only _just_ managed to reach. Blake and Weiss were nearby and seemed to silently agree on something before they too ran _back towards_ the damn thing.

"Should we help them?" Pyrrha asked, seemingly hesitant to leave my side again so soon after finding me.

"I mean -"

"Caw!" an avian cry rang out, drawing my attention upward to where a huge crow like Grimm was bearing down on the currently engaged group of Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Yang.

How the hell is this just initiation? What the hell were they going to do in class, make us fight Beowolves naked with sticks?!

Not willing to waste any more time than was necessary I charged out of cover, grumbling the whole way about my low aura, and lower self-preservation instincts. The truth of the matter was, I liked these people. Well. Ruby and Yang anyway. I wasn't just going to sit back when I could help them - not when every bit of help could make the difference.

Not when I finally had the chance to be the Hero.

Before my brain could even consciously register what was happening, I was in front of Ruby, my shield raised to defend against a barrage of razor-sharp feathers that further whittled my Aura away. The bird Grimm zipped by overhead, wheeling back around to make another pass, and I noticed it constantly angling its head to keep itself locked firmly on the scythe-wielding girl.

"Split up! It's after Ruby!" I hollered, hoping the simple instruction would be enough to get everyone moving in the right direction. We couldn't fight these two Grimm at the same time. The Deathstalker's armour made it more durable than a main battle tank, and there was no way we could track and avoid the attacks from the bird Grimm while trying to also deal with its stinger and claws.

The second the first four girls began to disengage, I saw Pyrrha, Ren and Nora rushing out of cover after me, their weapons each shifted into range combat forms - although Ren's seemed to _only_ have a ranged combat form. A hail of bullets whipped past me, hammering into the shell of the Deathstalker for little to no effect. Then the grenade came down, detonating in a cloud of smoke that obscured the beast from view.

Quiet suffused the clearing after the explosion, and I relaxed, only for the armoured Grimm to fly free of the smoke, one closed pincer already en route to hammer into the ground. Time slowed, and I realized I didn't have enough Aura to _take_ this hit. But it was too late, and the Deathstalker was too close. I couldn't evade, I couldn't block.

I was going to die.

 _"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!" Roared the giant, one hand swiftly swinging its massive weapon down on me. I had nowhere to run. No way to dodge. This was it. This was the end. Still, I cried out for her, who had sword she would protect me -_

"Saber!" I yelled, Crocea Mors falling from my hand.

And then she was there. The red-haired king of knight appeared in front of me, grunting with effort as she jammed her shield into the downward swinging claw, sending it careening to the left of us.

Red... red...

Pyrrha!

"Pyrrha!" I gasped, quickly bending to pick up Corcea Mors and leaping away from the oncoming Deathstalker's attacks. Pyrrha remained firmly in front of the thing, her lance and shield arcing out in perfect time to its attacks, deflecting and countering them with absolute surety. Even a single mistake could lead to death, and yet there she stood, between me and it, like a guardian angel, resolute in her drive to protect.

Something clicked, and my mind whirred back to life, driving out the confusion and distress that had coloured my thoughts since landing here. I had to focus. I wasn't a good fighter or even a good Hunstmen - I couldn't even scratch that things armour with my attacks let alone kill it. And from the looks of things neither could Pyrrha.

So I wouldn't come at this like a Hunstmen. Just this once, I'd come at it like a Magus.

"Ren, Nora, flank it!" I roared, surging to my feet and rushing to Pyrrha's side. With her there, I could at least make the most of my absurd reinforcement enhanced strength. No longer in immediate danger, I gave up on defending myself, allowing my shield to drop and gripping Crocea Mors with both hands. I swung furiously at the things claws every opportunity I got, the force of my blows sending the Deathstalker off balance, and providing that much more time for Pyrrha to recover between attacks.

Meanwhile, Nora and Ren ranged out to either side of the thing, peppering it with blows.

When finally, it grew tired of the annoyance, it made to turn away, swiping wildly towards Ren who flipped over the attack. But I had my opening. With all the remaining strength in my body, I cleaved at the joints of its legs, shearing them away and causing the great beast of Grimm to fall over. It could still move and attack, but that absurd speed it had boasted when chasing Pyrrha was lost to it.

"Nora, legs!" I screamed, withdrawing my Mystic Code from the pouch at my side. Nora quickly accepted the order, her grip shifting on her hammer so that she could trigger a blast from the grenade launcher that accelerated her swing and smashed the remaining legs on her side of the Deathstalker to pieces.

"Fall back!" I called, channelling my Prana into the obscenely large dust crystal I had pulled from my bag. It was of the force affinity and was of military strength - easily capable of powering a Bullhead for days on end. On it, I had scrawled in painstaking detail, magical formulae that I had been researching and testing over summer. The result was a much, _much_ stronger Force Crystal than should have normally been possible.

So that's what I threw under the struggling form of the Deathstalker, before pivoting and running after my allies. I mentally counted to distance, knowing exactly how close was _too_ close to safely survive the blast I was about to create. See, I hadn't made _much_ progress on my Jewelcraft. I still couldn't really store Prana in the things. But Archer's 'Broken Phantasm' had given me an idea. One that I hadn't expected to ever have to use on anything smaller than a building.

Still running, I spoke the aria I had only just now come up with under my breath. A stabilizing agent that would help me consistently recreate the phenomenon I was about to force upon the world.

 **"For it is by walking in the wake of giants, that we achieve immortality."** I intoned and instantly felt what remained of my Prana slip from me across the distance to the Dust Crystal currently resting under the Deathstalker. Dozens of thaumaturgical equations triggered at once, dispersing every iota of the energy throughout the crystal until the final inscription was touched upon. The inscription that would turn that energy back in on itself, creating a chain reaction that would 'break' the crystal, releasing all of its energy, all that _potential_ outward in a single, deafening blast.

I was physically picked up and thrown by the blast wave. There was no heat - because this was not a fire stone. There was no sound - because this was not _technically_ an explosion. It was simply a wave of pure, unrestricted force. There was a dull thump behind me as I tumbled onto the ground next to Pyrrha, nearly all my aura, and all my Prana drained from me.

Weakly, I stood and turned to find all three of my allies staring blank-faced at the area we had just vacated. To call it a crater would be being generous. Rather, it looked as though a giant had stomped on the exact spot the Deathstalker had once existed in, leaving a perfectly circular footprint in the ground.

Nora turned to me slowly, stepping over the stones that littered the ruins with a strange amount of care. She carefully clasped my hands in hers, raising them between us.

"We are going to be like, the _best_ of friends." she squealed, immediately breaking the solemnity of the situation and breaking the spell that held Ren and Pyrrha in place.

I was bloody, beaten, and tired as all hell. I had no aura, and no prana to speak of. I had wasted my one Mystic Code - my singular trump card.

But at least I had made some friends.

-ooo-

 **Damnit, you know I actually wanted to write a chapter closer to the 4 to 6k range than this. Im finding my word counting going up every chapter even though I'm not actively trying to do much more than reach certain story beats Im hype to write. I'm on my two week vacation now, and I'm trying to make editing passes at this stuff as I post it now, but as always, I'm kind of stupid and probably missed a ton of mistakes. This is the first real chapter with more than like... two characters in a scene at once really, and I'm kind of anxious to see how I did in the initiation - I realize there wasn't a whole crap top of dialogue in that respect, but alot of that I feel is because its all from Jaunes perspective, instead of jumping to whatever character happens to be talking at the time.**

 **Still looking for a Beta Reader (seriously guys, message me if your interested).**

 **Other than that, not much to say.**

 **Oh and as always**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	10. Birds of a Feather

After the fight we had relatively little problem with the Grimm as Pyrrha, Nora, Ren and I made our way back up to Beacon. Oh, there were Grimm - but they were all relatively minor ones, and not really in numbers large enough to be considered a true threat by someone like Pyrrha. Ren and Nora _helped_ naturally - whenever they weren't helping me hobble around anyway - but truthfully the lions share of that particular endeavour fell to Pyrrha. Honestly, it was like watching someone so good at a video game that you weren't actually sure why you were bothering to play yourself. The friendly, overprotective girl was like a machine in a very real sense. Her strikes and movements were so accurate and brutal that it looked less like she was fighting the Grimm and more like they were throwing themselves at her weapons.

Truthfully, even though my Aura hadn't really recovered much yet, my Prana had, and so I didn't _really_ need help moving about. I hadn't honestly suffered much in the way of injury in the first place, but I suppose when you live your life training to fight with a supernatural damage shield protecting you from all consequences of your actions - losing that shield must _feel_ like being on the edge of death. I didn't really follow the mindset because I had only had my shiny new Aura for a little under a week now, and most of _my_ training had left me positively riddled with injuries that required healing. But since it was out of worry, and more importantly, because there was no way they would be able to detect my available Prana the way they could Aura - I let them take turns helping me around.

That had been a couple of hours ago - right after the fight with the Deathstalker. I had yet to see Ruby or the three other girls that had gone with her to fight the bird Grimm, but Archer assured me they had survived their fight and made their way back to the school only a little bit after we had left. Now, I was standing languidly at the back of a growing group of new students, once more in Beacon's auditorium. Upon arrival, each of us had been given a package with a uniform in it that fit strangely well considering no one had actually measured me at any point upon my arrival. It was suspicious to me in ways that free clothing had no right to be, and I had to really stop and ask myself if I was so afraid of another Master trying to get to me that I was going to put my whole life on hold to avoid it.

The answer was no, of course, but I still took the time to analyze the package of clothing regardless. Needless to say, there was nothing wrong with it. Nothing non-magical wrong with it anyway.

'Hey, Archer?' I asked hesitantly, not sure how to phrase my request.

'I told you your little girlfriend and her group are fine.' Archer answered a little sternly, clearly still annoyed by how insistent I had been that he watch over them while I was returning to Beacon.

'No it's not that.' I sent quickly, not sure what to make of his foul mood since the battle with the Deathstalker had started. He hadn't exactly been _mad_ at me per say. Just... passive aggressive.

'I was wondering how you knew there were wards in the school? Can you like see magic or something?' I hurried on, not wanting him to start ranting to me about some stupid thing I may or may not have done.

'Most Magi can detect magic through one of their five senses. Which one you get is a crapshoot, but the ones widely considered to be the best are via Hearing and Sight.' Archer answered, his tone relaxing slightly.

'Why?'

'Because if you regularly see combat then hearing is the most acute way of determining if magic is being fired at you from out of sight, and if your a researcher sight allows for a much greater amount of detail to be derived from an object or person.' Archer rattled off, clearly quoting something at me from a textbook - or at least, a really boring sounding lecture.

It made sense. I couldn't think of a whole lot of ways that being able to taste magic would be useful - least of all in combat. But that still begged the question, which one did I land on? I already knew I wasn't seeing magic, because obviously I hadn't noticed the wards on the grounds. I didn't think I could hear or smell it either - I had never really noticed anything along those lines when using reinforcement on myself.

So it was touch or taste. I groaned, knowing I was going to have to test this at some point and dreaded the point in time at which I was going to have to lick a Mystic Code. Why the hell was Magecraft so damn complicated? Aura and Semblances were easy. You willed it, and it happened. Simple, easy, and from what I could tell - instinctual. But nope. Good old Jauney boy had to take the less traveled path.

"Ooh! Here he comes!" Nora called out from behind me, far louder than was strictly necessary given the whispered conversation in the room. I turned from her to Ren, who had the stoic blank look of someone who long since gave up the ability to be embarrassed. Or angry. Or anything really. Honestly, if I didn't know Ren to be the slightly mothering, compassionate guy he was, I'd have best been able to describe him as 'dead inside'. Giving up my quest to understand the newest of my friends for a moment, I turned back towards the stage, where Ozpin had arrived and a large screen had slid out of the ceiling to his right, facing the crowd of students below the podium.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Ren shift slightly so that his hand was covering Nora's mouth, and the excitable hammer-wielding girl had wrapped her arms around his waste and was shaking him like bag of marbles. On my other side Pyrrha shifted uncomfortably, although she wasn't really looking at the headmaster. Instead she glancing about the students surrounding us, who were all sending hopeful looks in her direction. They weren't being subtle about it either. Some of them made thumbs up motions at her, and still others gestured frantically for her to come join them. I could see why - I'd only fight three times, and I was reasonably certain she could take half my family at once if she put some effort into it. Maybe the whole damn Arc clan. Still, Pyrrha was clearly discomforted by the attention. So, I quietly slid forward and stepped around her, non chalantly hip checking her back towards the secluded position on the wall I had previously been occupying. There were still students that could look directly at her - it was an empty square room, so there was hardly a bunch of cover - but it did turn my six-foot frame into a very convenient obstacle to vision. Nora likewise seemed to subconsciously note the situation and shake her way slightly to the left so that we had enclosed Pyrrha in a small circle of bodies.

Nora caught my eye and smiled knowingly at me. Huh. Maybe she was smarter than she acts.

Nora immediately refuted my rogue thought by opening her mouth, turning her burgeoning smile into a failed attempt to bite Ren's fingers - which were still covering her mouth. She had to know he had enough aura to just ignore her, and there was no way she was going to bite hard enough to deplete it - so I really couldn't see the point of the exercise.

And yet here we are.

"Welcome Huntsmen and Huntresses in training. I'm happy to see that you all made it through initiation safely. I will now be announcing the teams you will be spending the rest of your time at Beacon with. You and your partner will be put with another pair of students to form this team - so do not worry that you will be separated from your new friends." Ozpin's bland voice wrang out. He took a long draft from his coffee immediately afterwards, apparently expecting the explosion of whispered conversation that started within mere seconds of his pause. Somehow - possibly via literal magic - he managed to finished his drink at the exact moment silence once more descended on the room.

"Now then. The teams will be as follows." Ozpin said, eyeing his now probably empty coffee mug with a forlorn expression. When no more coffee appeared to be forthcoming - note to self, mug of infinite coffee, new research topic - He sighed and gestured at the screen to his right.

" **C** ardin Winchester, **R** ussel Thrush, **D** ove Bronzewing, and Sky **L** ark, will hereby be known as Team CRDL - Cardinal, led by Cardin Winchester," I blinked once, staring at the screen as it displayed each name, then plucked the appropriate letters from them to form the team name. Did he...? No there's no way a place as esteemed as Beacon was just picking teams and captain based on what would make the name work. That was ludicrous. Cardin was probably just the best suited to lead his team. Probably the strongest too.

" **R** uby Rose, **W** eiss Schnee, **B** lake Belladonna, and **Y** ang Xiao-Long, will hereby be known as Team RWBY - Ruby, led by Ruby Rose." He continued, and I relaxed a bit. Yeah, that made sense. Ruby was clearly good at what she did, and her team had followed her without question back in the forest. She was the first to charge the Deathstalker and had been doing okay at it before the bird thing - a Nevermore apparently, according to Ren - had arrived. By that logic, the captain for our team should be Pyrrha so -

" **J** aune Arc, **N** ora Valkyrie, **P** yrrha Nikos, and Lie **R** en, will hereby be known as Team JNPR - Juniper, led by Jaune Arc." Oh god. I was wrong. I was so very wrong. These people were insane. I couldn't lead a team of Hunstmen. I could barely lead myself through the halls of the damn school. How the hell was I going to get anyone to listen to me when even **** _I_ didn't think I should be in charge.

The thought had barely managed to run through my mind when Nora was in front of me, scooping me up in a huge hug that was strong enough to drain a minute amount of my Aura via sheer force.

"Yes! I _knew_ we were gonna be the best of friends! We are gonna have _so_ much fun!" She crowed, swinging me left and right so hard I could barely take enough air in to breath let alone demand she put me down. I looked past the orange haired girl swinging me around like a doll to Ren, hoping against hope that he would get me out of this. He had the shocked look of someone who was expecting to be hit and had flinched away from the attack - only for it never to come. His eyes flicked from Nora to me and then down to himself before returning to me again.

And then the bastard _smiled_ at me. It wasn't a reassuring smile, or even a friendly one. It was the type of smile your _cellmate_ gives you while he's explaining the rules of the prison.

He _knew_. He _knew_ Nora was like this and was happy to have two other people to spread the pain around.

I swore to myself then and there, that I was going to remember this, and I was going to get my revenge.

Just you wait, Lie Ren. I will have four long years to obtain my vengeance!

-ooo-

Forty minutes later found the four of us stood in front of a wooden door with a cooper plate embossed with the word 'JNPR' on it. We had each been given a key to the room, and now that we were here I was sort of nervous. This was where I was going to be living for a good long while, and I really hoped it was nice.

With a deep breath, I hiked up my bag on one shoulder and unlocked the door.

Some things immediately jumped out at me as I stepped into the room. For one, it was literally just a single room with four beds in it. Each bed had a little dresser next to it that barely rose high enough to serve as a bedside table and certainly wouldn't have enough room for more than the most utilitarian of people to keep their things. I could see how between the dresser and the underside of a bed I would have room to keep most of my things, but I had no idea how much stuff the rest of my new teammates might own. Nora and Ren looked like they travelled pretty light, but Pyrrha was a _girl_. I had seven sisters, and even the most boyish of them had more accessories than I had possessions in general. I didn't even bother categorizing Nora that way - she was more like a force of nature than a woman.

"Ow!" I yelped as Nora happily stepped past me, accidentally slamming her heel down on my foot.

"What the heck Nora!?" I cried hopping backward to sit on a bed and pull my boots off to massage the hurt appendage.

"I just felt like you were thinking something rude is all~" Nora crooned, flouncing past me to the two beds on the far right of the room.

"I hereby claim this bed for myself and Ren!" She declared proudly, sticking her chest out and pounding it with one fist.

"You mean _these_ beds, Nora," Ren said neutrally as he slid past the exuberant girl to drop his rucksack on his new bed. His back was turned to so _he_ missed it, but as he began to systematically unpack his things, Nora turned to glower at him. How a guy could be that oblivious to a girl that had literally just implied she would sleep with him was beyond me. I mean, how dense can you be?

"I guess that makes us neighbours." Pyrrha smiled at me, pulling the golden circlet that held her hair in place off, then taking a seat on her own bed to begin unpacking. She kicked her legs like an excited kid and darted a few furtive glances at me while she worked.

It was so god damn picturesque that I could tell the exact moment my hormones kicked in, reminding my body that I was a friggin teenage boy. And that brought with it several complications that I felt it was important to note - right after I hastily dropped my own bag in my lap.

"So... I think we might have a problem," I spoke to the room in general. Ren and Pyrrha stopped unpacking to look at me attentively, and Nora came down from the most recent jump on her bed, landing in a crosslegged sitting position facing me.

"Jaune?" Pyrrha said hesitantly.

"You guys haven't noticed? We have one bedroom and one bathroom." I said, pointing over at the door to said bathroom.

"So?" Nora asked, her head cocked to one side.

"We're teenagers with superhuman endurance and equally superhuman physiques," I explained, helpfully omitting the fact that my physique was anything but superhuman at that moment. Again, Nora just looked at me blankly, clearly missing the point I was trying to get at.

"We're teenagers with _hormones_ that have superhuman endurance." I tried again. This time I could see the light of understanding in Nora's eyes when I spoke. Her eyes darted towards Ren behind her and then back to me, a lopsided grin breaking out on her face.

"So~ ?" she said again, and I just about wanted to die of embarrassment.

"I'm just saying, maybe we should set up a curtain and - "

"Jaune. _Don't worry about it_." Nora said, with a finality that made me flinch, even though the smile on her face and the happy tone in her voice never once faded.

"Ooook," I said, turning back to Pyrrha who was studiously not looking at me.

"I guess we'll all just have to take turns changing in the bathroom." I apologized to her. Oh I would regret nothing if I were to somehow catch a glimpse of her changing. I was just pretty sure that I wouldn't live long enough to regret _anything_ after that point.

"That's... That's fine Jaune. I'm sure we're all trustworthy here." the red head said after a moment of thought, and when she turned to look at me again, making my heart nearly leapt out of my chest.

I had seven sisters. Most of whom I had seen naked at some point in my life. So why was the simple act of Pyrrha letting her hair down sending me into fits!? This wasn't freaking fair! I wanted a do-over! Put me on Team CRDL!

Shaking the fantasies of smooth skin and red hair out of my head, I turned around and waited, pulling a dust crystal out of my bag to examine. I wasn't really going to do anything with it - least of all in front of all these people. But if there was one thing I knew for sure right now it was this.

This bag wasn't coming out of my lap until Pyrrha and Nora had left to go change.

-ooo-

It was five am in the morning and I had gotten approximately three hours of sleep. I couldn't tell if it was because of all my pent up stress, the bizarre twist my life had taken when Archer entered it, or just a natural result of doing Magecraft, but in the end it didn't really matter. I had barely gotten more than four hours of sleep a night at best, and that seemed like it was a trend that was likely to continue. It's not like I wasn't tired - because god help me was I ever. It was more like some inner part of me simply couldn't _allow_ me to sleep that long. 'Keep moving' it demanded. 'To be still is to die' it whispered.

It was annoying because I had _never_ lived in a situation that would necessitate this type of habit. Sure I was a bit worried about the other Magus on campus, but I somehow doubted they were going to have my bedroom blown up in the night. Magecraft is powerful, but there's no reality where someone who assassinated a student at Beacon got away alive. Half the Hunstmen in Vale could claim Beacon as their alma mater and if they heard someone had gone after the institution? There would be _blood_.

But even with that said, I just _couldn't_ get to bed. I had been laying down and staring at the ceiling for hours now and it was starting to get old. The evening before had been both relaxing and trying at the same time. Between trying to keep the fact that I had a platoon's worth of dust in my belongings secret, Nora not so subtly flirting _at_ Ren and Pyrrha watching with detached amusement, it felt sort of like my family had before everyone started growing up and leaving home. It was chaotic, but it was a good kind of chaotic.

With a sigh of defeat, I quietly flipped the covers off of myself and rolled out of bed to slip into my boots. If I wasn't going to sleep I might aswell be doing something productive.

'Archer, how are we?' I asked as I closed the door to our room with a gentle click of the lock.

'Same as yesterday. No activity, lots of wards.' He said.

'Where the heck have you been anyway? Haven't seen much of you.' I asked pensively, trying to decide on what I wanted to do now. I couldn't work on my jewelcraft because even if it wasn't weird to be caught carving weird symbols into a stone at night, the noise of doing so would probably wake my team up. I couldn't work on my sword forms because... well actually I probably _could_ work on my sword forms, but I had left Corcea Mors in my room and didn't want to go back for it.

'Roof. I can see pretty much everything from up here.' Archer admitted easily.

'Doesn't it get boring up there?'

'You kidding? I've got a whole school of stupid kids to spy on. There are whole dramas where I'm from about this stuff. There's a girl three doors down from you who _desperately_ wants to get this guys attention, but she doesn't want to _seem_ desperate so -'

'Neeevermind. Please don't tell me my classmates secrets unless its relevant to me. No wait, don't tell me their secrets unless they're _dangerous_ to me.' I quickly cut him off. Great, my Servant was a voyeur. At least he was more relaxed now than he had been the day before.

'Hey, can you help me find one of those ward thingies?' I asked, an idea forming in my mind. I had walked out into a courtyard of some kind by now and was enjoying the cool night breeze as it blew past.

'There's one at the base of the tree between it and the bench.' Archer said, and I slowly spun on the spot to get my bearings and locate the tree he was talking about. I didn't bother asking him if he was talking about the tree in _this_ courtyard. No doubt he could see me from wherever he was and had just directed me to the nearest ward.

When I walked over to the tree, I just stood there, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did, and I stared at a patch of dirt with a baleful intent, _willing_ something magical to pop up. It didn't, and after a few seconds I gave up and kneeled down, feeling around in the grass like I had dropped a contact lense. I really wanted this to work. I _really_ didn't want to half to bend over and try licking the dirt. To my great surprise, as my hand passed over a certain spot, I _could_ feel something. It was almost impossible to describe the sensation. Like the pop of an old camera's bulb flashing, only... only it was a texture and not a sound. All the hairs on my arm stood up, and somehow I could just _tell_ that there was something there. And the more I waved my hand over it, the more I got a feel for the 'texture' of the spell, the more I understood about it.

I frowned. If I had a piece of paper with me and something to write with, I was pretty sure I could even write out some formulae that would do more or less what this ward was doing. Hm. There was a thought. Should I be learning to make wards? I did my best to memorize the feeling of the Magecraft, knowing I wouldn't be able to get it perfectly, but also knowing that just _some_ of the knowledge would be of great benefit to my own research.

A rustling behind me drew my attention, and I turned my head to see what had caused the sound. Standing in the archway leading out to the courtyard was a girl. She had long brown hair and was staring at me with wide eyes as though I had just caught her doing something particularly heinous. But more important than any of that - she had freaking rabbit ears. I stood slowly, turning towards her.

"Do you -" I started before she darted off with a fluorescent red flush on her face. " -... have two sets of ear canals." I finished.

Damnit. Was this going to happen to _every_ girl I tried to talk to? Was I _that_ unappealing? She hadn't even let me finish embarrassing myself before she vanished. Giving up on pondering the fairer sex for the moment, I trundled off to write some spells. The first thing I was going to do - was put a ward on my room. Preferably one that did bad things to anyone entering against my wishes. Hm. But then again this is a highschool, and any number of people I might not know about could technically get into my bedroom. Any teacher, any cleaning staff. I could probably key the ward to my teammates so that should be a problem... Hm. Maybe I would hold back on the booby traps and stick with a warning trap...

'Oi. I know what your thinking.' Archer interrupted me by saying.

'Oh yeah? Whats that?' I drawled at him.

'You can't just put a ward up on _your_ room idiot. The magus that already lives here is immediately going to notice that only one room has protection on it. Your safer with nothing than you are only covering for yourself.' Archer pointed out immediately. Damn. He was right. I hadn't thought of that. But... but...

'But its so coooool!' I complained. 'I basically only know like two spells you stingy bastard! throw me a bone here!'

I was not being a baby just because I couldn't play with my new toy. I was just... disappointed at losing the opportunity to perform live research? Yeah. That's it. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

'To bad. I can't teach you anything else.' Archer said bitterly.

'Go practice your alteration or something.'

Practice my...

'Archer...' I said carefully.

'What?' he answered belligerently.

'What the _fuck_ is alteration!?' I mentally shrieked at him. 'You literally _never taught me that_!'

'That's because it's just a modified use of reinforcement! I thought you figured it out and just never _bothered_!' Archer answered, confusion plain in his tone.

'How the hell is that something I would just _figure out,_ you dick!?'

'Well, it's how _I_ learned it! You literally just make the prana your using to reinforce something add stuff to it. It's way easier than Tracing!' He retorted to my insults.

'You never taught me _that_ either.' I reminded him.

'...' No reply came this time.

'Oh, so that's how it is huh?' I grumped. Still no answer.

'Fine! But this is going on the board for me!' I warned him, not quite sure when I had started to take the scoreboard we had been faking this seriously. Sometimes it felt like the only way to end an argument with my Servant was for someone to score a point on the damn thing.

Now silently fuming, I stomped back to my room, quietly slid inside, and grabbed a dust crystal from my side table. It took me approximately two minutes to get twice as mad as I had before because that's exactly how long it took for me to figure alteration out and use it to re-engrave all the required formula for my as yet unnamed Mystic Code onto the damn thing.

Two minutes. I had spent _hours_ on the first one, and that was without having to worry about disturbing any roommates. Painstakingly scratching tiny numbers and runes onto a gem one quarter the size of my palm. Now I could produce super dust in nearly no time at all. The only thing required to complete the process and allow me to trigger the thing at a distance was a to dribble a drop of my blood on it. How the hell was I supposed to have figured this out on my own? What _asshole_ starts with reinforcement and then thinks 'I don't like this sword, better make it into an arrow?'

-ooo-

I woke from possibly the best sleep I had ever had in my life, to find Jaune with bloodshot eyes staring at the ceiling in the bed next to mine. I blearily pushed a strand of red hair out of my face and sat up in bed, not quite sure what to make of it. I hadn't known Jaune for long really, but in the time I had known him, he'd been a patient if an awkward man. So see to my friend so obviously distressed by something sent a pang of heartache running through me.

And wasn't that such a lovely phrase? _'My Friend.'_

What a novel concept. Jaune was my partner and _first_ friend. He wasn't the most competent fighter - insanely powerful dust bomb aside - but he was so earnest in his interactions. Always hesitant to speak, but never willing to be silent. He tried his best, and that's what really mattered.

Well no, best not to lie to myself. He had _no_ idea who I was. And _that_ was what _really_ mattered. With Jaune, I could be sure that every kind gesture or quirky joke was an honest attempt at friendship. To Jaune, I wasn't 'The Invincible Girl', I wasn't a prize to be won or an ally to be made. I was just _me_. It was such an oddly liberating sensation to not have to pretend at perfection around him.

Something that made me blush slightly as I wiped the drool from my face.

"Jaune?" I called after him, drawing his attention. He blinked owlishly at me, turning slightly so he was looking across the narrow distance between our beds. Ah, best I not tell my agent about that. I didn't have a purity clause in any of my contracts, but public image was important. Or so I'm told. I largely just played along because it would be embarrassing to do anything else.

"Morn' Pyr." Jaune mumbled tiredly at me, truncating both the two words in the sentence almost off handedly.

"Are you alright? You don't look like you slept well..." I hoped it wasn't the sleeping arrangements. I admit it was unorthodox, but not that much more so than the locker rooms of any of the dozen coliseums I'd fought in. I'd found most people were much more apt to mind their own business than torrid magazines would lead one to believe.

Then again, I'd never been in a change room with someone I hadn't defeated in combat. I supposed there could be something to that.

"Just... just noticed I was making a really really stupid mistake with my gear and couldn't get over it. Don't worry about it." Jaune said with a stretch as he too rose from his bed.

"Alright. So!" I said trying to change the topic. I wasn't good at small talk. Well, not small talk I actually _wanted_ to have. I was exceptional at pretending to be interested in things _other_ people said, but that was a very different proposition. So instead I fell back on the limited advice my agent had given me when public speaking, even if I balked inwardly at using the disingenuous tactic on people I genuinely liked. But... I didn't want them to _hate_ me, so... so this would have to do until I could make something else work. Something better.

Head tilted, small smile, cocked head. Easy. Approachable. Friendly.

"Are you excited? For class I mean." I questioned, adding a little lilting laugh to the sentence. People liked laughter, it meant things were going well. It meant you liked them. I, of course, was _not_ really looking forward to class - least of all _combat_ class. I enjoyed a good fight - I had dedicated a significant portion of my life to it after all - but I very much did not want to draw such attention to myself this early in the year. I had come to Vale precisely for that reason, and I wasn't keen to throw it all away on the first day.

Even if it did seem like everyone I met already knew me anyway.

"Ah. Uh." Jaune stammered, and my heart fell as his eye twitched and he turned a bright red before sitting up and gathering his sheets in his lap. Damn. I was going to have to work on being more genuine with him. I really did like him.

I'd like him a bit more if he wasn't sleeping in apparently his entire outfit...

B-but only because I was interested in seeing what kind of training he did. You can tell a lot about a person from their musculature.

Yes. It was for that and no other reason that I tracked Jaune's hurried path across the room to the bathroom.

Ah. Hormones. We had such a lovely relationship before this.

When my gaze flicked back across the room to Nora and Ren, intent on seeing whether they would require waking for the day, I found Nora staring at me. Well. Staring might be generous. She was really _leering_ at me. Her eyebrows rose and fell twice and she gave me a conspiratorial wink.

Nope. I, Pyrrha Nikos, am going back to sleep. Tactical retreat is a valid and time-honoured strategy after all.

-ooo-

Professor Port was boring. No, Boring would imply he was saying something important, but that I could bring myself to pay attention. Calling Professor Port boring was an insult to boring people. Truthfully, Professor Port was _nothing_. He was empty calories. Food without sustenance. Like popcorn with no butter. Or salt. Or _flavour._

Within mere moments of stepping into the room, Pyrrha, Nora, Ren and I had rushed to a corner of the lecture hall near the front. We had nearly been late for class, the general chaos Nora was capable of causing and Ren's resigned acceptance of that chaos making it so we hadn't noticed the time until Team RWBY - who it turned out was across the hall from us - had run out of their rooms screaming about being late.

It had all been down hill from there. Despite having arrived to class ready and willing to learn about all the Huntsmen related knowledge I definitely didn't have, Professor Port had set me straight. He had begun a long rambling story about his adventures in the Grimm lands that had been going for nearly an hour now. There was so little actual information in this lecture that I had actually withdrawn a small vial of dust from my bag to fiddle with under the table. Structural Analysis meant I didn't honestly need to be looking at what I was working on, and since I apparently sensed magic via touch it wasn't much of a stretch to work with Alteration and instinct while pretending to be paying attention. Not that Port would ever notice. Half the class was literally asleep. In fact, the only student who appeared to be raring to go after the last hour of this auditory assault was Weiss.

"So!" Port bellowed, which seemed to be the only volume he was capable of speaking in.

"Who among you fancies themselves a _true_ Hunstman?" He asked the class. It took me a couple of seconds to register that he wasn't still going into absurd detail about the exact composition of the detritus on the forest floor where he wrestled a beowolf barehanded.

"ME!" Weiss howled, shocking a portion of the sleeping students awake before coughing lightly and then sitting back down.

"I mean, me sir!" she said again. The sudden jerking of half the class shook the table I was working under, causing me to jerk back in surprise and drop the vial of frost dust I had been fiddling with. The goal had been to reinforce and alter the dust in a way that would give me more power for longer. Right now my aura trick pretty much used up the entire vial of dust for a single moment of an extremely high energy effect. In essence, I wasn't draining the vial and then using some of the power over time - I was using all the potential energy in the vial, all at once. If I used blue dust for instance, I wouldn't freeze the area around me by sitting in it. I would _flash freeze_ everything around me in the two seconds the effect lasted and then my aura would return to normal. That was useful in scenarios where I wanted a burst of power - the yellow dust I had used to obliterate seven Beowolves comes to mind - but other types of dust not so much.

So when I dropped the little vial of blue dust, it was with my life flashing before my eyes that I watched it roll across the room to land perfectly under Weiss' foot.

I actually held my breath. It wasn't like I was actively empowering the stuff so she _might_ not die. Maybe.

Blessedly, the vial actually rolled into the arch between her high heels and I quickly released the breath. Weiss seemed to notice the disturbance, because just as Port said; "Wonderful! Young lady why don't you come down here and prove you have what it takes to be a Huntress hmm?" she leaned over to pick up the vial. I tried to catch her eyes as she passed me, but she breezed past me to change into her combat attire as coldly as ever. Man, she _really_ did not like me. She was also walking away with my highly unstable experimental magically altered dust.

Oh boy.

-ooo-

Finally! The people of this school simply have no respect. First Ruby with her exuberant ignorance and brash personality, and then that blonde idiot that kept trying to get my attention. I had dealt with his type before and - as is the trial of anyone truly worth knowing - likely would again. It was best that I not even attempt to be cordial or polite to him. People like Jaune Arc would read too much into any action, and assume that for whatever reason they honestly had a chance with the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company.

I glanced at the vial of dust the fool had dropped, bouncing it in my hand.

Really, I was not a petty person. But compassion, as father would say, is a weakness.

I eyed the vial of blue dust, then eyeballed how much remained in Myrtenaster. It _could_ use a top up.

And if he complained well. I didn't know it was his after all now did I? It's not as though he told me.

-ooo-

Weiss stepped back into the classroom wearing the white dress she for some reason thought was somehow a good idea to fight in. She neither looked at nor acknowledge me when I waved for her attention and a sinking feeling of dread filled me.

No its fine. Its fine. I'll just catch her after class. She's probably just really focused right now. And for good reason.

Within moments of Weiss leaving the room, Professor Port had pulled the tarp off of a cage that had been making snuffling noises on one end of the classroom to reveal a Boarbatusk. It was another one of those semi-common varieties of Grimm native to Vale so I was passingly familiar with it. It was basically a horse sized boar covered in spines and the trademark white mask all Grimm wore. They were famous for their tenacity. It wasn't so much that they were hard to kill, but where other Grimm began to vanish the moment a fatal blow had been landed on them, a Boarbatusk would remain in existence for several seconds after it had apparently died, struggling and flailing at its killer before it actually faded away.

This one had taken to ramming itself into the bars of its cage the second Weiss had entered the room, rapier in hand. She peered at the Grimm impassively, a poise to her that helped mitigate how abrasive her personality was.

"Go get 'em Weiss!" Ruby yelled from somewhere behind me, causing the white haired girls eye to twitch. It was immediately apparent to me after arriving in class that Ruby and her partner didn't get along. The only thing more constant than Port's boisterous voice in this class had been Weiss' constant nagging and needling of the younger girl. Still, Ruby seemed to be taking it in stride, no doubt hoping the cold girl would warm to her with time. I hoped she did - Ruby was too nice to have to deal someone who hated her for four years.

"Are you ready miss Schnee?" Port asked from his position next to the cage.

"Yes," Weiss said calmly, nodding.

"You got this girl!" Yang hollered from off my right. There was another twitch but otherwise nothing.

"Very well! Begin!" Port barked, slamming a meaty fist into the cage that caused the front of it to swing wildly open.

The Boarbatusk needed no more than that, because it immediately sprinted out of the cage at Weiss. She did well at first, dancing out of the way of its rapid charges before lashing out at it with her rapier. But a problem arose pretty much immediately.

She couldn't hurt it.

Each time Weiss counter attacked the thing in passing, her rapier just skidded across it's armoured back. The beast looked no more trouble after five minutes of fighting than it had at the start, but Weiss was already started to display fatigue. The constant dodging and concentration were getting to her - not to mention the stress of doing this while her whole class watched.

"Get him in the clinch!"

"It's got a soft tummy!"

"Do the thing with the ice!"

The peanut gallery certainly didn't help, with Ruby and Yang yelling a constant stream of unsolicited advice at her. Eventually, Weiss whirled on the two girls, fury in her face.

"Stop trying to help!" She screeched at them, unfortunately taking her eyes off the Boarbatusk just as it decided to curl up into a spikey armoured ball and fling itself at her. Her attention returned to the Grimm just slightly too late, and it clipped her as she jumped away, causing her to drop her weapon.

"The floor! Ice the floor!" Ruby called out in good humour still. I had no idea how she was so relaxed about this. I had nearly jumped from my seat to help a number of times, even if all I could do was tank the fast-moving Grimm with my huge aura reserves.

Weiss scrambled across the floor for her weapon, reaching it just as the Boarbatusk spun around and renewed its charge. Instead of pointing the blade at the incoming threat, the stabbed the weapon into the ground spinning the chambered dust cartridges in the handle and doing... _something_. I hadn't really gotten a good look at Weiss using her semblance before, even though I knew she had used it to slow her fall back in the forest.

Now though, I was staring directly at it when the circle appeared before her, between herself and the Boarbatusk. I couldn't understand what the hell the inscriptions in the ring actually said, but something about it piqued my interest as a Magus.

It was like looking at the source code for reality. I could physically feel the energy gathering in the circle before changing itself to perfectly match the instructions she had willed upon them. And she _had_ willed them done. It wasn't Magecraft - it wasn't powered by Prana, I could tell that right off. But it was clear she hadn't had to do the painstaking calculations required to produce the effect that I would have had to with blue dust. She just decided what she wanted to happen, flicked her semblance on, _and it happened_. Weiss, whether she knew it or not, had a semblance that basically turned Aura and Intent into Magecraft.

My hand was halfway to my pencil so I could try to write down the runes and formula I had just witnessed when I realized something was wrong. There was _to much_ power in that circle. The math I had quickly run in my head when I saw it told me the goal was just to slick the floor with ice while making a ramp with the same stuff so the Boarbatusk would fly over Weiss' kneeling form.

Instead, a veritable glacier erupted from the ground, quickly encompassing the half of the room the Boarbatusk was on and obscuring the floor of the classroom. Port had to hop smartly out of the way to avoid the spikes of ice that promptly eviscerated the Boarbatusk and most of the wall behind it.

Suddenly I knew what had happened. Hand still halfway in the air, I slowly turned my head back towards Weiss, unsure of what I would see when I did. You could have heard a pin drop the room was so quiet in the aftermatch. When my eyes finally fell on Weiss, she was looking _right_ at me.

God damnit. She _knew_.

"Wooo! Go Weiss! How did you do that?! How come you never did it against the Nevermore?! That would have been so _cool_!" Ruby yelled jumping up from her see and flailing her hands in the air in complete defiance of the the quiet she was interrupting.

"I didn't -" Weiss started, turned her head towards Ruby but keeping her eyes firmly trained on me.

"Ah. Well. It appears I'll have to call some of the janitorial staff to clean up. Worry not! Class was nearly over anyway. What say you all leave a bit early for your next class with Miss Goodwitch hm? Weiss, a word?" Port said pleasantly, waving the destruction off like it was a pretty common side effect of his classes. Weiss' head snapped around to look at the Professor like he had just accused her high treason, a shocked look on her face.

"I... was going to ask to speak to you after class anyway Professor." She said, recovering quickly.

I quickly decided I didn't want to be _anywhere_ near her when she finally got free of the Professor, so I turned to Pyrrha and said;

"Come on, we can get good seats in the next class if we leave now. Nora, Ren!"

My team quickly fell in around me and we hightailed it out of there.

Once we were in the halls, three pairs of eyes turned to me.

"Jaune, I had been meaning to ask after your display in the forest but - do you perhaps have some faculty with Dust?" Pyrrha asked me gently.

"Boy does he!" Nora cackled from next to her. "Was that his fault?"

"I did notice Weiss picking up a dust vial he had dropped prior to her display yes." Pyrrha admitted easily, shooting me an apologetic smile as she spoke. Shit. She was too pretty for me to be mad at. This must be why Dad always just does whatever Mom says. He knows better.

"Hah! Jaune, you have _got_ to make me super duper dust grenades!" Nora begged, practically vibrating with excitement. I had only known her for a day and a half, but even _I_ was wise enough to step smartly back to avoid her grasping hands while she spoke.

"I uh... It's a family secret?" I tried, using the same line I had used on Ruby. I could say it was my semblance - but then if I ever actually figured out what my semblance was, I'd either have to hide it, or find _another_ excuse to cover it. I was pretty shitty at lying in the first place, so I figured 'family secret' was close enough to the truth to go with.

After all, I _had_ technically learned Magecraft because of Leon Arc's magic book.

"So your family are Dust technicians then? Researchers perhaps?" Ren asked me curiously.

"Something like that yeah." Huntsmen are basically Dust Technicians, right? They use the stuff after all.

"Is it difficult?" Ren asked.

"What?" I said not sure what he was getting at.

"Fortifying dust so that it behaves in that way. Is it difficult." Ren said, pointing back to the classroom for emphasis.

"Oh. To learn? Yes. Don't even ask about that one. But I could probably do a few clips of ammo in an hour or so if I had the time and space." I supplied, mentally going over just what I had done to the vial in class and trying to think about how I would do it if I was looking for a more toned down effect. I liked the word 'Fortify', so that's what I was going to call the stuff. Fortified Dust. I liked it. It was wholly and truly mine. A part of my original Magecraft that even Archer couldn't make heads or tails of.

"Soooo~" Nora said, sidling up to me.

Wait.

I looked to Ren, who was smiling placidly at the middle distance, completely ignoring me as though we had never had that conversation.

"I was thinkiiiiiing~"

This son of a bitch.

Several minutes and a few promises later, I was sitting in my first combat class. True to Archers word, it was literally a concrete box with bleachers in it. A screen was attached to the far wall, and lights hanging above were aimed at the center of the room where a large clear area was. There were no desks, and there was no black board. It was just a concrete room with Miss Goodwitch in it, standing patiently to one side of the well lit area where fights were obviously meant to happen.

Once everyone had arrived - I made a point of avoiding Weiss - Miss Goodwitch spoke, her eyes scanning the crowd of teenagers like a farmer examining cattle.

"Welcome everyone, to your first day of Combat Class. As you might expect we will be doing a significant amount of fighting here, and as such, starting tomorrow I will expect each of you to change into your combat attire before arriving in class." She said, and I just about melted in my chair with relief. If she wasn't expecting anyone to be ready to fight then -

"Arc. Winchester. Go get changed and get in the ring."

Aaand there it is.

Cardin stood up from his seat immediately, flashing a daring smile at his team. I got up from my own seat with significantly more effort. I could tell without looking that most of the room was watching either me or Cardin as we both trudged to the changing rooms. Cardin's locker was apparently much farther away from the class than mine was, because even though we both jogged out of the class at the same time, I grabbed my gear, changed, and made it back to the class without ever seeing him.

I stood nervously in the center of the room under the scrutiny of my Miss Goodwitch and the class. Absently, I started surreptitiously rubbing my finger over the Dust vials at my belt. Without really thinking about it, I started altering the the purple gravity dust, enhancing its properties. It was complete in record time, and I had almost started to reach for the next vial on my belt when Cardin finally arrived.

He was dashing I'll give him that. Looked like a real knight and everything. Full body armour, well-coiffed hair, a literal phoenix embossed in gold on the chest of metal armour. If there was anything that ruined the look, it was the menacing looking two-handed mace he lugged into the room over one shoulder. That thing looked like bad news, and I considered it a point of pride that I didn't immediately chicken out after seeing it. Cardin's smug grin didn't do much for my confidence either, and he alternated between sneering at me and shooting furtive looks up at the crowd of girls (plus Ren) that made up JNPR and RWBY.

Heaven above, I'm going to get pummeled because he wants to impress girls. There was no justice in this world.

Resigned to my beating, I rolled my shoulders and withdrew Crocea Mors and my shield, taking a stance.

"When you are ready, you may begin." Miss Goodwitch said, stepping away to watch the proceedings.

We circled each other for a bit, and the slow pace of the movement allowed me to make a solid attempt at keeping my footing solid and stance strong while I moved. It was an act of course. I was _terrible_ at this, hence the need for practice. But at least it let me avoid looking like a complete moron in front of everyone I know.

"Go Jaune!" Ruby cheered from the bleachers.

"Kick his ass!" Yang hollered right afterwards

"Good luck Jaune!" Pyrrha called tentatively.

Every cheer in my favour made Cardin's face turn a deeper shade of red until eventually, something gave, and he charged at me. Thanks for nothing team. Now he was _mad_ at me.

I ducked under the first blow, a wide swipe that would have taken my head off if I hadn't avoided it. I tried for a thrust as I ducked, but stumbled backwards as Cardin's knee came up to crash into my nose. Still seeing stars, I only barely had the presence of mind to raise my shield against the next attack, an overhand slam that kept me off balance and probably would have broken my arm if I didn't have an aura.

Panic and instinct kicked in, and I found my sword arm lowering as I considered reaching for a dust vial.

But then I stopped. I already knew I could total the whole room if I wanted to. Pretty much everyone here could if they put their minds to it, but for me, it would be _especially_ easy. Only, I wasn't _here_ to learn how to demolition a room of people. I was here to learn how to use a damn sword, and if I tried to cheat my way through with Magecraft at every turn, then Magecraft was the only thing I was going to get better at. That would be fine, given lots of Huntsmen have specializations - but unlike _them,_ I couldn't exactly be open with my Magecraft.

Plus, it's not like I was in any real danger. This was school. There was a Teacher watching.

So instead of grabbing a vial and flattening the immediate area around me, I continued my desperate attempts to defend myself. The moment of hesitation I had shown when considering my options hadn't been missed by Cardin, and he feinted left before stepping into my guard and kicking viciously at my exposed legs. The pain was vast, a sure sign that that would have been a bone breaking blow for anyone without aura, and I felt the ground go out from under me.

"Whats wrong Arc?!" Cardin jeered as I rolled to the left, desperate to avoid the hammer blows he was now raining down on me.

"Come on, what are you just gonna dodge the whole fight you pansy?!" He continued, scoring a solid blow against my shoulder.

The fight continued like that for a good two minutes. An admirable time to last for someone like me in my humble opinion. But it definitely wasn't going _well_ for me. By the time Miss Goodwitch called a halt to the combat, most of the room was watching me with disappointed expressions that made me wince far more than the pain of Cardin's blows had.

"Stop," Goodwitch called, and Cardin's mace stopped mere inches from the side of my head. I immediately relaxed, bending over to put my hands on my knees so I could pant in peace.

"A good showing Mr. Winchester, though you have a tendency to over-commit to your swings. Make an attempt to hold back a bit - there were a number of times where if Mr. Arc had been even slightly faster he could have retaliated against you. Remember, as Hunstmen we are more frequently faced with overwhelming numbers than we are a single skill foe. You will rarely be able to overwhelm the odds in this manner." Miss Goodwitch praised Cardin, or well, as close to praise as the woman ever seemed to get at least.

"As for you Mister Arc... you are certainly adept at minimizing the damage you take. However, you seem to have trouble actually _fighting back_." She said the last while looking at me with a contemplative expression.

"Come on M'am it's not like he's going to blow the room up to win!" Nora called, no doubt thinking she was helping.

"Oh right! Jaune's got family secrets!" Ruby said, her voice slowly raising from subdued to hyper active over the course of those few, short, damning words.

If the baleful glare I sent their way was noticed, then they chose not to react to it. I was already turning out to be shit at hiding my Magecraft around these people - the _last_ thing I needed was Ruby and Nora telling everyone they met about my 'family secrets'.

"Family... secrets?" Miss Goodwitch asked, her tone somewhere between annoyed and curious.

"Ah... it's just some stuff I can do that I didn't think would be productive in a duel?" I tried. Hey it might work.

"Mr. Arc, I can understand wanting to hide a semblance or other skill, but things like 'holding back' and 'hiding a trump card' are usually reserved for people competent enough to defend themselves without their use. You clearly are not, and I can't see a reason to teach someone who isn't willing to bring their all to my class." The witch said pointedly.

Ugh. Fine. I'd show her once and then she'd never let me do it in class anyway. Sighing deeply, I sheathed Corcea Mors and let my hand fall to the belt holding my dust. I didn't actually need to be touching it, but it did make it easier, and it's not like I was going to actually attack anyone.

With a quick flick of my will, my Magic Circuits burned to life, the metaphysical rasp of steel wrang through my soul. Eyeing the distance between me and Goodwitch, I stepped away from her. I wasn't worried about Cardin - he had already swaggered his way back to his team and was watching the proceedings with a childish, and _malicious_ glee.

All at once, I raised one booted foot, reinforced myself to the max, and actualized the mystery that would allow me to change my Aura to a wave of pure gravity. Gravity that bent to _my_ will. The results were interesting. I felt as though I had a much greater control over the phenomenon with the altered dust than I did when using it unmodified. Maybe that was because the stream of power rushing into me was a constant instead of a flash in the pan. Either way, I willed gravity to increase as I swung my aura clad, reinforced foot downward.

The result was impressive. The concrete floor pretty much exploded. As before with the Cyan Crystal I had used on the Deathstalker, the room suddenly sported a concave dent in it, though this time the force of the blow had sent concrete shards spraying across the room to pepper everything for several meters around the new crater that was suddenly there. A pleased coo of appreciation escaped my lips as I rubbed a thumb across the gravity vial. Yeah it had take a lot of my remaining Aura - the ability was cost prohibitive that way - but the Dust was only about a third of the way used up. And being able to get more usage out of my dust was always a good thing.

The second of consideration had been enough to distract me from Miss Goodwitch and the rest of the class. A state of affairs I would have preferred to keep, except that Nora began cheering immediately afterwards, followed by about half of team RWBY - Yang and Ruby specifically - and all of JNPR.

Cardin was looking at the hole in the ground I was standing in with equal parts rage and fear, and Goodwitch was...

Still just looking at me pensively.

"I take it, Mr. Arc, that over-reliance on this ability of yours is the reason your record looks as it does." She queried. I had... no idea what the meant, but if it helped sell my fake transcripts I was all for it. So I just shrugged in response, hoping she would take that as a yes. I was a crap liar after all.

"I suppose it would make sense that you would turn your interest towards swordsmanship. You would like to be well rounded I presume."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak lest I gave away the game.

"Very well."

Yes. Yes yes yes yes. I was good. I was scott free. I had made it work, I had covered my ass and explained why I was so bad at using my sword all at once. This was _great_. I was going to have to do something nice for Nora after this. Maybe apologize for glaring at her. And Ruby to, since she -

"We shall have your primary practice partner be Miss Schnee then. You both seem to rely heavily on dust enhanced attacks, and so should be good sparring partners for the purposes of improving your swordsmanship."

I nearly gave myself whiplash turning to stare agape at her, then turning again to stare agape at Weiss.

Who was smiling.

Evilly.

God. Damnit.

-ooo-

 **Lets see things to address. So with regards to Shirou and Gradation Air - as far as I can tell after a run over of some of the material, Shirou never learned Gradation Air, in fact, he only inveted Tracing because he was ignorant of how the spell was supposed to be cast. It was literally an achievement only possible** ** _because_** **he had never learned the normal version of the spell.**

 **I'm also definitely aware of lucks place in the Fate universe, but its easy to use as an excuse to blame Archer for stuff, especially from Jaune's point of view, who doesn't know any better and isn't likely to get it explained to him by anyone competent any time soon.**

 **Finally,the Beowolf pack strength thing. I've found over time that despite The characters in ruby acting like Beowolves are a threat, they really aren't. It takes really no time at all for Beowolves to become established as the generic mook character among the Grimm, and I always felt that didn't easily match up against the way the show wants Grimm to be perceived in general. If Beowolves were that easy to kill I feel strongly that even normal citizens with a gun could handle them. So in this fic I've introduced the 'Stronger the more of them there are' rule. It means a swarm of grim is a threat instead of an excuse to animate a bunch of cool looking fights - not that I don't appreciate those.**

 **Oh and as always,**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	11. Unkind Intrusions

There are many times in my life I have looked back on my actions and questioned the sense in them. Many times I have moved forward while burying my regrets.

"That- that _sneak!_ "

It is perhaps merely a side effect of those situations that I am significantly more self aware than other people my age. Much more capable of thinking of my actions and how they affect the greater picture of life.

"To hide something like this from _me_. From _me!_ A Schnee! One of the foremost names in dust production and refinement!"

Unfortunately, that self awareness is something that can be hard to pass to others. And not for the first time since arriving at this school I found myself watching a teenager behave like a child.

"Um, Weiss?" Ruby asked hesitantly from her position across the room.

"What!?" The heiress yelled back.

"Don't you think your kind of over reacting?" Ruby put forth, glancing to her side where her sister sat watching my white haired team mate self destruct.

"Jaune Arc has a means of proccessing dust that the Schnee dust company could never even _dream_ of! I assure you _I am not_ over reacting!" the stuck up heiress howled.

I was of two minds on the subject. On the one hand, Jaune had proven himself capable of standing his ground against Adam Taurus - a man with more blood on his hands that I would freely admit to myself until recently. He was clearly highly skilled at what he did - which, if combat class today had been any indication - was _not_ using a sword and shield. The sword and shield were a fairly old affectation as far as weapons went. Huntsmen didn't strictly need them because we had Aura. So I could only assume that to Jaune, it was a purely sentimental affectation. The man who had growled at me to run away while he fought Adam had not seemed like a protector. He had the grim bearing and determination of a death row inmate walking to the gallows. In the few seconds I had watched him exchange blows with Adam he had not seemed like a Hunstmen at all. He had seemed like a weapon without a master.

And ofcourse there was the fact that he was here. Really, when I added everything I knew about him up it made complete sense. Jaune seemed to only have two modes of combat - Murder or Defense. There didn't seem to be an in between if his casual display of power in class had been any indication. So he was undoubtedly trained to kill. There was no other way he could have defeated Adam otherwise. Combined with the fact that he was clearly trying to change himself - from the dual sword wielding storm of death he had been on the train to the defensive rock he seemed to be trying to mold himself into - and it told me one thing.

Jaune was here to escape his past - just like me.

Which brought me to the second thing. If he was like me, and didn't _want_ to be a bad person. Didn't _want_ his life to be about doing whatever it took to achieve the goal. Would it really be fair for someone like me - who he had helped - to tell anyone else about his past? He had seemed content enough to ignore my deception when we had met. And frankly, I slept entirely too close to Weiss to be comfortably allow her to put herself on his list of bombing targets this early in the year.

I was also starting to kind of like the stuck up heiress, even if I would never admit it out loud.

"I think antagonizing him is a bad idea." I said with a flat tone, keeping my worried expression hidden behind my worn copy of 'Ninjas of Love'.

"What!?" Weiss asked aghast. "But you don't even know him!"

"Neither do you." I answered darkly.

"You know Weiss-cream he did call it a 'family secret'" Yang pointed out.

"Even more reason to make contact!" Weiss sniffed indignantly.

"Small family traditions like that disappear if even one bad thing happens to the family! This could be knowledge that would be lost forever if someone doesn't get it written down somewhere!"

There was a pregnant pause in the room for a moment as Ruby, Yang and I exchanged tired looks. This conversation had been going in circles for an hour name - pretty much from the minute class had ended, not to mention the fact that Weiss had been watching Jaune like a hawk the entire time before that.

"Weiss." Ruby said after a second, trying for stern and landing somewhere closer to desperate.

"Your company doesn't technically _own_ dust. Can't you just leave Jaune alone? I think you scare him..." Our team leader trailed off. I snorted in derision at that. Jaune was probably about as scared of Weiss as I was a civilian with a stick. I was willing to bet that 'Family Secrets' was code for 'Proffessional Murder Techniques'.

"Whaaaaat Rubes is trying to say Weiss, is well. Your being kind of a bitch." Yang chimed in. Weiss instantly deflated, falling in to her chair with a defeated sign.

"But... but this could be revolutionairy!" she whined. I was actually somewhat surprised by the tacit acceptance of the insult on her part. I wasn't sure what had happened but somewhere between the morning and now Weiss seemed to have come to terms with Ruby being the team leader - even if she still bossed everyone around like she was our nanny.

"You could conisder asking politely?" I said, weighing my words carefully. I was as curious as anyone else about Jaune's background - but I wasn't willing to offend him over it.

"He'd never respond to _that_!" she continued forlornly. "He probably thinks I hate him!"

"I mean... you _did_ hate him." Ruby pointed out sourly.

"No I _disregarded_ him. It's different." she corrected petulantly.

False.

"He's a teenage boy. That's probably worse than just shutting him down." Yang pointed out.

True.

"Well maybe one of you can talk to him?" Weiss asked hesitantly. "Your friends right?"

"I'd rather not." Ruby immediately said. "I don't wanna take advantage of our friendship."

"Go Rubes! Yeah I gotta pass, Jaune's a nice guy but I don't know him _that_ well." Yang agreed, bumping her sister with an elbow and smiling conspiratorially. She whispered something in her little sisters ear right afterwords, something I would have been able to hear if it weren't for the ribbon on my head blocking my faunus features from sight. As it was, Ruby turned a bright red and buried her face in the pillow she was hugging.

"So we need someone who he doesn't know personally, but doesn't have a bad relationship with." Weiss pondered from her bed. Slowly, every eye in the room turned to me, where I had been mostly avoiding the conversation and hiding behind me book. I could feel my ears tugging at the ribbon on my head as they tried to lay flat against my head in surprise.

"Blake -"

"No."

"Not even if -"

"No."

"Pleaaassseee." the heiress begged. I rolled my eyes. It was going to be a long night.

-ooo-

It had been two fairly quiet days since my impromptu outing as some kind of dust manipulation prodigy in class. It hadn't taken all that long for two things to immediately make themselves apparent to me after that little debacle.

One, the people in this school were completely shameless. Not a day went by without someone I didn't know approaching me to ask about my 'prices'. I naturally turned down all offers - primarily because selling my Magecraft seemed like a particularly stupid idea to me. Secondary to that was the sheer destructive power of Fortified Dust. Giving it to a teenager felt like handing an ape a handgrenade. It was absurd in its ludicrousness.

Two - Cardin had decided that I was his mortal enemy. It wasn't just a simmering hatred either. He had taken every opportunity to make my life a living hell - and unfortunately for me, I didn't really have any good way to handle it. The teachers seemed curiously uninterested in the problem, though Cardin did make a point of never harassing me directly in front of one of them. I could physically fight back but, as I had so pointedly demonstrated in class, I couldn't really defeat Cardin in a fight without breaking him down into his component parts. To be sure, the first time he had slapped my lunch tray out of my hands I had considered it to be a fairly worthwhile option. But then rational thought kicked in. I had been bullied for a decent amount of my life - being the kid who's known for hiding behind his sisters all the time will do that. So I was pretty used to this scenario. The best thing I could do for now was keep my head down, and keep practicing. Once I was stronger with a sword, I would revisit the problem.

At least thats what I told myself.

"Cardin! Cardin this isn't funny! Let me out of here!" I complained. My most recent encounter with the larger boy had ended with me unexpectedly jammed into my own rocket locker. I could, if pressed probably kick the door off if I used an Aura Burst, but I was sort of hesitant to do so for two simple reasons. One - I had no idea if the door would hit a random passerby, and two, I wasn't sure if I would have to _pay_ for the locker if I broke it. It was more the second thing than the first. If I wanted I could technically sell some of my Fortified Dust to pay the costs but... I really didn't want to do that.

"Funny? Hah. Your right Arc, this isn't funny its god damn _hilarious._ " Cackled the deep voice of Cardin while the rest of team CRDL chuckled and guffawed in the background.

"Yeah Yeah, real funny Cardin. Come on man what have I ever done to you?" I said exasperated.

"You made me look like a god damn ass Arc! You let me beat you in class and then rolled out that big attack like it was nothing! You made me look _stupid_ in front of _everyone!_ " Cardin raged. The declaration left me sort of speechless. What the hell was wrong with this guy? Was his pride seriously worth _that much_ to him?

"Come on boys. Wouldn't wanna be late to class." Cardin said smugly after he had calmed down and the excited breathing from the other side of the locker door faded away. I gave it a couple seconds, knowing that if I opened the door while he was watching he'd just do something else to me in retaliation.

Silently, I stretched a palm out to lay it on the door to my rocket locker, intending to use alteration to shift the lock and open the door. It was a fairly unnoticeable use of Magecraft, but I still wasn't willing to 'magically' unlock the door while someone was watching. It was too specific an ability to be anything but a semblance, and unlocking doors definitely isn't what I wanted to be known for. However, before I could even begin to use my Magecraft, another sound stayed my hand.

"Jaune? Are you okay?" a worried voice asked from outside my locker. It was familiar but I couldn't quite place it.

"Yeah I'm just... hanging out... in my locker..." I said, not sure how to answer the question without coming across as snide. Of course I wasn't okay, I was locked in a god damn locker. But being rude to someone here to help me probably wouldn't help so...

"I can open the locker if you tell me the combination?" the voice said again, still hesitantly.

"36-12-05" I rattled off instantly. I didn't keep anything useful in my locker. Crocea Mors didn't even go in this thing. I'd rather take it to class with me than let the weapon with a literal demon in it hang around unattended.

A few seconds of passed with no sound save for the frantic clicking of the combination lock as the dial was turned, and then the door swung open to reveal Weiss and Blake standing idly infront of my locker. My eyes boggled, and I stared at them in blatant confusion.

"What?" The white haired girl asked, turning away from me so I couldn't see her expression. My lock hung limply from one of her fingers.

"Sorry just... don't you hate me?" I asked, too flabbergasted by the experience to embarass myself.

"Of course not! I merely thought you were..." the Schnee bit her lip in thought.

"Beneath you?" Blake put forward with an amused expression that fell from her face the minute I turned to make eye contact with her.

"Hey Blake." I greeted the Faunus absently. "I kind of thought you hated me too to be honest."

"W-What?" the dark haired girl sputtered, letting her book fall away from her face and into one hand.

"But- but I've never _done_ anything to you!" She decried.

"I mean we met on the train here and you didn't try to talk to me so I figured..."

Weiss' eye twitched and she whirled around on her opposite colored friend.

"You knew him this whole time!? While I've been trying to find an opportunity to speak to him!?"

"You mean while you've been stalking him Weiss. _S-t-a-l-k-i-n-g."_

The two girls immediately got into an argument, and not for the first time in the last two days I found myself trying to figure out if they were friends or enemies. Weiss apparently had that effect on people. She was adversarial to the point of insanity, but when you really examined it she was rarely wrong, and seemed mostly just distressed by the fact that people didn't want her help.

"So... I better get to class..." I tried, just as my rocket lockers door slammed shut and it began to quiver. I quickly stepped away from it, and Weiss and Blake did likewise. Right before our eyes the thing shot into the air, vanishing from sight as it tore a hole in the room and sailed... somewhere.

I felt a bead of sweat drip down my back. If Weiss and Blake hadn't noticed me getting stuck in there, I would have probably still been trying to alter the door to let myself out when that happened. I'd either have been stuck in the locker, or flung out of it when the door came free during my flight.

"Seriously Cardin?" I mumbled, unmindful of Weiss and Blake who immediately broke off their argument to share a look.

"Ehem. So. Jaune." Weiss began, shuffling her feet slightly. "About your special dust..."

"I'm not selling any and I can't teach you how to make it." I immediately rattled off, already having grown used to the requests. Figures. It would have been nice to actually befriend the monochrome colored members of Ruby's team. At least then I could bring JNPR to sit at the lunch table with them instead of having to navigate around both them, _and_ Cardin.

"What? No I was just... just...going to ask if you could explain it in greater detail?" Weiss tried, some of the haughtiness leaving her tone. Ah. Thats why I didn't recognize her voice from the locker. I'd never heard her use any tone but imperious before this.

"That falls under 'teach you to make it' " I pointed out, gathering my things from the floor where they had fallen after Cardin had accosted me.

"Just _one_ vial!" Weiss exclaimed, stomping her feet stubbornly.

"Fine. Come on. Glynda will kill us if were late for combat class." I said, pulling a vial of blue dust from my belt and holding it over her head like I was teasing a child.

"But you have to be nicer to Ruby." I tried, going for broke.

"Seriously, she's trying her hardest okay?"

Weiss and Blake stared at me like I'd grown a second head.

"What?" I asked when they didn't say anything.

"Why do you _care_?" Blake asked.

"Because she's my friend? Duh?" I said, trying not to pout. Grown men don't pout, no matter how much they just wanna get on with their day. It was a true testament to my luck that here I was, faced with two very pretty girls that wanted something from me, and I wanted _nothing_ more than for them to leave me alone.

"Hey speaking of which. Are you okay Blake? The train thing was pretty dark, I'm pretty sure I k-"

"-issed! By mistake! Yeah don't worry about it - it was dark." She said, sliding forward and shoving her hand over my mouth like I was Nora. Oookay so she _hadn't_ told her friends about that. Fair enough. No idea why though - I mean, she had pretty much single handedly saved all the people on that train. She was a Hero in _my_ book.

Weiss narrowed her eyes at the exchange, but snatched the vial of dust I was holding out of the air none the less, packing it into an inside pocket of her jacket with care.

We spent a few seconds darting glances between the three of us, before we all took a step back and began to walk to class. Weiss was darting me curious looks every few moments, and Blake was doing the same, although her looks were more 'murderous' than 'curious'.

Oh yes, the famed Arc luck with women strikes again. Seriously dad, take your love at first sight crap and shove it up your-

-ooo-

"Jaune!" Pyrrha called to me as Weiss, Blake and I trudged into the hall containing all of the combat cells. Today was the first day of training where we would go largely unsupervised. Miss Goodwitch had gotten through the list of students just yesterday, having made each one of us fight once so she could provide a direction for our training. Today each of us was to split off into pairs to train separately. It made sense - we weren't going to get a lot of practice in if only a few people got to actually fight per class. There wasn't enough time in the day for everyone to take a turn.

Ofcourse, this left me with a problem.

"Hey Pyr. I answered, slumping against a wall next to her while the class waited for Goodwitch to show up and assign our rooms to us.

Blake peeled off to head towards Ruby and Yang, sending me a warning look, but Weiss didn't bother, just waving at her teammates and stopping beside me. Pyrrha, Nora and Ren looked at me curiously so I shrugged.

"We met on the way here." I lied. I hadn't told them about Cardins bullying. I'd had quite enough of other people fighting my battles for me back in Ansel thank you very much. The last thing I needed was Nora deciding to blow up Cardin's bedroom or something in retaliation. She was a nice person once you got past her bizzarre personality, but I had never met anyone so casually vicious as Nora.

"It's as he said. We found each other in the halls and simply chose to walk to class together." Weiss confirmed, probably noting the lie but choosing to follow my lead on it. That was nice of her, considered I was pretty sure she didn't really like me all that much. But at least she didn't let her dislike get in the way of being a good person - and that made her okay in my book.

"I... see." Pyrrha said, and for a second I thought I could see a darker emotion flicker across her face before it was replaced by the beaming smile she always had on.

"Eh, Jaune's fine. Weiss wouldn't do anything to our leader now _would she_." Nora spoke. Weiss stiffened at the implied threat, but quickly relaxed when everyone either shrugged it off or rolled their eyes at her. It had only been two days but I had heard Nora threaten to violently assault people for pretty much everything from soggy pancakes to oggling her thighs. At this point I'd be more surprised if she _didn't_ threaten Weiss.

"Alright students." Miss Goodwitch said, cutting off all other conversation. "Here are the room assignments."

With an easy flourish she pulled a page from the stack of papers she was holding and pinned it to a nearby wall, one that was covered in all sorts of flyers and recruitment advertisements for various clubs and activities around the school.

In short order, the majority of us had shuffled off to our designated locations. Which was how I found myself standing awkwardly across from Weiss.

"So." She said perfunctorily.

"I don't think it's fair that I should have to help you improve your swordsmanship. I can't gain much from it. No offence." Weiss stated primly.

"Thats fair." I admitted. Mostly because it was. I was so crappy at sword fighting that if I forced Weiss to spend the whole class on only that topic, she'd never get anything out of it. She'd essentially be wasting the time just to teach me how to be competent - something I really should have been already by now.

"I could... help you with your semblance?" I offered.

"What could you _possibly_ know about my semblance Arc. You've seen it precisely one time." Weiss sniped, rolling her eyes.

"Well..." I considered it for a moment.

"Do anything with your semblance. Throw a fireball at the wall or something." I said finally.

She rolled her eyes but did so, waving her rapier lazily towards a wall and creating a red glyph in the air, which promptly fired a bolt of fire into the concrete opposite it.

I nodded once, having been staring at the Glyph with as much focus as I could for the few seconds it had been active. Pretty simple effect to be honest. It had all the basic stuff in there. Direction, energy consumption, velocity. I could do that. But to make my point I'd have to go a bit farther than that.

"Well as you've figured out by now." I said dryly. "I'm something of a specialist in dust manipulation. Your semblance isn't magic you know. All the fancy letters and symbols in it are a programming language."

This was going to be _such_ a hard sell. I was basically explaining the principals of Magecraft to her and hoping she would mistake it as a fancy way of controlling dust simply because her semblance obviously did the same thing.

"So, if someone with some resources were to do something like this..." I said, pulled a vial of red dust from my belt and using Crocea Mors to scrape out a magic circle similar to the glyphs Weiss created when using her semblance on the concrete. Gently, I allowed a tiny amount of the red dust to fall from my vial into the center of the circle.

With a bit of focus and a quick touch of my finger to the circle, I released my prana.

"Ten Seconds, Fireball Barrage." I mumbled.

And that is _exactly_ what happened. For exactly ten seconds, a barrage of fireballs equal in size and strength to the one Weiss had launched slammed into the wall opposite me, all of them originating on the ground where I had drawn my circle.

"See? Your semblance is pretty much letting you speak a language you don't actually know." I explained. When I turned around Weiss was across the room from me, pressed into the wall of the room like she had just seen my kill a puppy.

"Uh... Weiss?" I tried.

"So...So your telling me that as far as your concerned, my semblance - which has been inherited across my family line for generations - is just an easy way to do something your family figured out ages ago." She said shakily.

"Well... sure?" I said.

"I changed my mind. My father can _never_ find out about you." She said, apparently making a snap decision then reaching into her pocket to throw my _highly volatile dust vial_ back to me. I caught it out of the air, unsure of what was going on.

"You were going to tell _your dad_ about me?!" I asked in dismay.

"Well not anymore I'm not!" Weiss retorted.

"I came here to escape that old man's machinations! To try and live my _own_ life! If he finds out someone who can do _that_ -" she waved a hand towards the burnt circle in the ground of the cell.

"- is here, then he'll start trying to marry me off to you, no questions asked."

I stared agog at her. Me and Weiss? No. No way. I mean, she was pretty but the last few days had left me with a less than stellar mental image of her. She was kind of... well, something. Not sure what really.

"Ooook. So... you _don't_ wanna learn this?" I asked timidly.

"Want? Jaune, I'm afraid I must _insist_ you teach me." Weiss said, a new edge to her tone that I was sure would have sent a lesser man into a fit of panic. She stalked toward me like a cat that had just caught sight of a particularly stupid mouse. There was a glint in her eyes that spoke of intense focus and determination.

Oh boy.

"Alright Weiss lets just... calm down..." I said drawing my weapon up before me and stumbling backwards as a quick thrust of her rapier tore through the air ahead of me and slamming point first into my shield. It hadn't been a particularly strong strike, but it had made the point that I should probably starty trying to defend myself.

"I _am_ calm." She said in an eerily chipper tone I just couldn't associate with Weiss Schnee - Ice Queen of Beacon Academy.

"But I'm a Schnee, and a Schnee never does anything half way. So, you will teach me this language, and I will make you a great swordsman." She said sweetly, punctuating each sentence with a thrust of her rapier that I either had to duck away from or hurriedly put my shield in front of to avoid being pierced.

-ooo-

"Jaune!?" Pyrrha exclaimed at me as I exited my training room to find the members of both team RWBY and JNPR waiting outside. Weiss slipped past me with little to not respect for my personal space, breezing past in her usual detached manner. Despite the sheen of sweat on her face there was an eagerness in her eyes, a profuse satisfaction with herself that was hard to pin down.

I, on the other hand, looked like shit. Weiss was an extremely demanding task master, and had managed to work our session in such a way that I was desperately barking bits and pieces of magical lingo at her while she did her level best to murder me. It had not made for a peaceful or relaxing session. The fact that she would frequently retort with bits of fencing advice - that she would either attack me for failing to head, or attack me to demonstrate, or _both_ \- did not help in that respect. All in all, I was feeling _extremely_ run down. I didn't have the same honed physique most Hunstmen had by the time they made it to Beacon. I was just a slightly above average fitness guy. I got by mostly using reinforcement to cheat, but a solid two hour session of getting my ass kicked was making me reconsider the neccesity of a solid work out routine.

"I'm fine Pyr. She's just a really demanding partner." I said with a sigh. Six heads turned towards Weiss at once, no doubt curious about what she had to say.

"We have reached an agreement. I'll see you at launch Jaune." She said kindly, and then skipped - _skipped_ \- up the hall.

Six heads turned back to me, silently asking me what had just happened.

"It's... look I guess were friends now is all." I said weakly.

" _Just_ friends?" Nora asked salaciously, elbowing Pyrrha who stiffened at the words.

"Right? Man Jaune, the way she left you _must_ have Yang'ed her." Yang chimed in with an equally suggestive tone. Ruby blanched, and Blake lowered the book she was holding to look more closely at me. Instantly I could feel my face heat up. This was not happening. This was _not_ happening.

"Seriously? Nothing happened. We just found out we had more in common than we thought." I tried again, saying... well partially the truth. Her little outburst about running away from her fathers influence had interested me, and I could certainly sympathize. But really, Weiss and I were 'friends' now because we both had something the other wanted. Even if I was starting to reconsider how badly I wanted to be good at swordsmanship.

"Boooring." Nora booed, wrapping an arm possessively around Ren and leaning unneccesarily on him. The man was as stolid as ever, barely reacting to the sudden bodily contact.

"I doubt a single session of training is enough to turn someone like Weiss Schnee into a lovestruck girl." Ren pointed out in my defence. Mentally, I lowered the degree to which I would punish him for his earlier transgressions.

"I dunno, you read alot of books where the heroine and the love interest get hot and heavy in the middle of a fight..." Yang spoke up, flicking the cover of Blakes book. The raven haired girl yelped and turned bright red, hiding the book behind her.

"Yang!" Ruby shrilled, finally having had enough of the imprompty interrogation. "He said it's nothing so it's nothing!" She huffed.

"Like _you'd_ know." Yang said sarcastically.

"Hey! I know about... stuff..." Ruby said, her voice falling with each word.

"Yeah. Stuff. Nice Rubes." The blond teased her sister.

"I think Jaune's had more than enough stress for one day." Pyrrha said hurriedly, putting a hand on my shoulder and spinning me towards our next class.

"See you later Jaune!" Ruby called after me, before the three girls descended back into bickering.

"Soooo." Nora crooned from next to me as Pyrrha hustled me along to our next class.

"Details!" she yelled, bouncing up and flinging her hands in the air.

"Seriously. Nothing happened." I said sourly.

"I'm sure _Jaune_ had no ulterior motives." Pyrrha said, reaffirming my faith in humanity once more. Even if only denoting me in her statement was oddly specific.

"Right?" She said, her grip on my shoulders tightening impercetibly.

I just nodded as fast as I could. The truth was I _did_ have an ulterior motive. I wouldn't just explain runecraft to weiss for no reason. The truth was, I didn't know it any better than she did at the time. But getting to see the runes in her Glyphs at work provided me with enough frame of reference to actually figure the damn things out. All I had really been doing was explaining my realizations on the subject to her as they came up. Pretty much noone except Weiss could possibly benefit from the information.

In exchange _I_ got to watch Weiss use her semblance. Spell combinations and ways of constructing spells I had never thought of before had been revealed to me the longer I looked. The fact that she could simply will something done meant she never really needed to learn the rules of Magecraft in the first place. At best it would give her slightly more versatility in combat. I, on the other hand got to see something new everytime she even _thought_ about changing the way she used her semblance.

It was like a Magus' wet dream, and she didn't even know. Which was pretty much the primary reason I had put up with the abusive 'training' Weiss had to offer.

"See? Everythings fine." Pyrrha said in a tone that broached no argument.

Nora seemed doubtful. Ren seemed apathetic. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a pair of bunny ears vanishing around a corner.

I just prayed no one tried to insinuate to Weiss that anything other than fighting had happened in that room.

-ooo-

"Weiss?" Ruby asked as she approached me from behind. It had been a productive day. Jaune was apparently some kind of idiot savant in a language that noone used or spoke anymore, and through some insane quirk of luck that had a direct effect on how I used my semblance. Already I was starting to see little inefficiencies in my Glyphs that had never occurred to me before. I mean, how could I? For generations my family has passed this semblance down. Generations, where everything we knew about it was passed down from one Schnee to the next.

"I don't think she can hear you Rubes." Yang chortled.

And it would all barely a thimble compared to what Jaune had helped me realize. In many respects, I had always ignored the visual effects of my semblance. It wasn't as though it meant anything. If I wanted to throw fire, I tapped a dust well and threw it. That was all. But if there was order to it, if there were _rules_ , then that meant there were _loopholes_. It meant there were things that could be done that I - and my _family_ had never considered.

"Weiss?" Blake asked from nearby.

Take summoning for instance. The 'penultimate' use of my semblance. One my sister had mastered earlier than anyone else in our families history. And that I had failed to even succeed at once. It was simply too whimsical for my tastes. Training on the subject largely boiled down to 'think very hard about something to summon and then summon it.' If your image of what you wanted to summon broke down once, then you failed. Many people would decry this apparent lack of imagination on my part but the truth was, when most people imagine things, they are imagining them in _general_. The details aren't present because they aren't neccesary. The texture of a material. It's smell. How it reacts to heat. All of the little things that ground an object in reality are absent from a normal person imagination.

But they were absolutely neccesary for me. Until now. Because if Glyphs had rules - if they were like _math_. Then I didn't need to imagine a hypothetical magical creature. I could _program_ it.

"Is she _humming?_ " Yang laughed.

"I think she _is_. Oh god, she _did_ sleep with him." Blake said in faux horror.

My mind, and consequently, my stride, ground to a halt.

"WHAT!?" I screeched, whirling on my team.

"Oh so you _can_ hear us." Ruby chided petulantly.

"Blake! How dare you!" I accused, jabbing a finger at my teammate.

"Weiss, you wen't in pissed and came out with a rosey glow and a jaunt in your step. What are we _supposed_ to think?" Yang pointed out helpfully. I spluttered helplesly at that. Were they insane? Had they no sense of propiety? Did they think _I_ had no sense of propriety?

"Nothing happened!" I yelled finally, drawing eyes from all over the hall.

"Ahem. Nothing happened." I repeated in a more normal tone of voice.

"So whats got you so happy then?" Ruby asked out of what appeared to be genuine curiosity, and I adored her for it. It was uncomfortable for me to admit but, maybe I _had_ been a bit harsh when we first met. Port hadn't exactly been polite when I'd asked him about being a team leader, and Jaune certainly seemed to think I was being somewhat rude...

Not that Jaunes opinion mattered of course.

"Jaune's family tradition of Dust manipulation bears a shocking resemblance to my own semblance. It's likely his family has a semblance similar to my own that he has studied well in, and it turns out that I actually had a lot to learn from him." I said, explaining my observations of the blond. True, he refused to _call it_ his semblance, but there really wasn't any other explanation for what he could do. Really, to call his semblance and my own similar was almost a bit _too_ accurate. Certainly he had to go through a few more steps than me, apparently having to manually create his glyphs - but it was close enough to be a curiosity.

I would have to make a note of looking through the family tree. Maybe a branch of the family had ended up in Vale at some point unbeknownst to anyone in Atlas.

Ruby, Yang and Blake all breathed a sigh of relief, and I had to roll my eyes. As though I would ever hop into bed with the first boy I spent more than a moment speaking too. How crass.

"So you were just trading pointers or whatever?" Yang asked with a bored expression now.

"Yes _Yang_ we trained, in the training room, during class. Shocking, truly." I intoned dryly.

"There you go Rubes. He's still single." The blond nuisance quipped at her little sister.

"Yang!" the younger girl cried out.

Ah. Equilibrium. The more time I spent around these people the more this _chaos_ started to feel normal. Comfortable. Dare I even say, _good_. God, I was going native. Daddy would hate it.

And surprisingly, I didn't dislike that fact.

-ooo-

I had been at beacon for two weeks. Two weeks of speed reading runes out of Weiss' glyphs. Two weeks of dodging and parrying while trying to explain them and the rules behind their use to her. Two weeks of Cardin's constant pestering and abuse. Two weeks of my new workout routine - one that Archer had audited and deemed appropriate for someone trying to get ripped in as little time as physically possible. But most importantly;

Two weeks of Magical R&D.

Using the runes I had been cribbing from Weiss, and my lexicon for the magical equivalent of 'grammar' I had found a whole new breadth of options in my Dustcraft. Archer had pointed out that I was hardly doing anything even vaguely recognizeable as Jewelcraft anymore, and so the new moniker had been born. It had been a personal high to know I was developing a brand new field of magical research - something Archer said was exceedingly rare, and the type of thing major families were known for where he was from.

I now carried on my belt two pouches practically bursting with Mystic Codes of varying shapes and uses. The pouches and belt had also undergone some slight changes. My run in with Weiss during Proffessor Ports class had put me on notice - it was _way_ too easy to lose track of my dangerous magical bullcrap. So I had spent a good three days reinforcing the _crap_ out of my belt and pouches. They were now nearly as durable as Crocea Mors itself, and wouldn't open for anyone but me. Sure I had use alteration to spread some force and gravity dust throughout the things composition to power the enchantment, but the power draw was so miniscule that I could happily ignore it save for a once yearly replenishment.

I had even managed to put together a few lesser options that I could use to fight people without instantly murdering them. I still wasn't all that intent on using them in class - I had surprisingly been making pretty good progress with Weiss on my swordsmanship - but the _option_ was always nice.

I could happily say that despite all the intense physical labour, I was doing pretty well.

"Alright ladies, who wants to make this game _interesting_." Barked Nora from next to me in the lunch room. JNPR and RWBY were sitting together, as had become the norm for us, and Most of the table of the table was presently engaged in a particularly fierce game of Go Fish. They had started out with Poker, but when RWBY confessed to not knowing how to play, things had quickly been rearranged for the simpler game.

"Do not." Ren warned immediately, drawing a pout from his long time friend. Or girlfriend. Honestly it was hard to tell with those two sometimes.

"Aw whats the harm Ren? Whatcha got girl!" Yang spoke ignoring the warning.

"Winner gets to decide what everyone does this weekend!" Nora declared. Several heads perked up at that. Even I was kind of interested. I had honestly expected something more stupid from Nora, like 'winner feeds me as many pancakes as I can eat' or some similar nonsense. I constantly had to remind myself that Nora wasn't _actually_ an idiot. She just often enjoyed behaving like one. Which... wasn't _that_ different, but was enough of a difference that I wouldn't bet against her if given a choice.

"I'm in." I said easily.

"I'll play." Ruby chimed in.

"Fine." Weiss grumbled from where she had been studying the notes she made on our sessions.

"Pass." Blake called out.

I glanced at Pyrrha, ignoring Ren's stoic refusal to look at anyone present. If Nora was playing, so was Ren. There was literally no reality where he denied her something she wanted. Well. Something he could comprehend anyway. I had once caught Nora carefully arranging pamphlets with dating advice and locations on them on his pillows. When Ren had arrived he'd just acted confused at how they'd gotten there and dumped them in the trash. Needless to say, JNPR ended up training together that evening, and unsurprisingly Nora decided the Ren needed experience fighting multiple foes at once.

For the whole session.

"I'll join." Pyrrha agreed readily, stretching a hand out to receive a hand of cards.

All in all it was just a normal day at Beacon for me. I had friends, I was making progress in my life. I didn't have a girlfriend but hey, I had four years to work on that. I just had to do literally the opposite of what my dad would do. In theory anyway. Since my Dad would probably just talk to every girl he encountered until he found one that clicked I was already sort of failing on that front. Pretty much all my friends were girls. But that was it. _Friends_.

"How are these even attached?" A crude voice wrang out in the cafeteria, and I looked up, several turns into our game when I realized the room had gotten very quiet near me.

"Ow!" cried a a soft voice in a tone that was clearly just on the verge of tears.

Across the cafeteria, Cardin and his team were standing about, giggling and guffawing at the plight of the Faunus girl who's animal ears he had grabbed and was pulling at as hard as he could. I realized with some surprise that it was the brown haired rabbit girl who I'd been seeing around the school since I started here. She was always scurrying about, headed somewhere I didn't know. I never saw her with anyone else, even though intellectually I knew she must have a team.

And there she was, whinging and trying to pull herself out of Cardin's grip while he yanked and pulled on her ears, in what was clearly a painful experience.

"Seriously?" Yang growled. "How does _that_ _guy_ make the cut as a future Hunstmen?"

"How has nobody done anything about him yet?" Ruby asked in a huff.

"His father apparently faught in the Faunus Wars. He's not very fond of the animals." Weiss sniffed, dismissing the situation but still keeping an eye on Cardin that was full of distaste.

"I'll be right back guys. Just skip my turn." I said, scooping my empty glass of milk off the table like I was going to head to the counter for a refill. I really wished Cardin could have had some self control. I could actually kind of understand why he didn't like _me_. Everything he said about me making him look stupid was pretty much true. I had yet to see a single woman in our class so much as look twice at him after that first day. He had managed to display arrogance, and ignorance all at once. They weren't attractive character traits, least of all when combined. As I moved across the lunchroom I flipped one of my pouches open. It was probably unneccesary, but I kept my 'toolbelt' as I had come to call it, on me even when I was in my normal school uniform. I could survive being caught without Corcea Mors, but this thing was my _lifeline_. It was the culmination of every ounce of research I had done since learning about Magecraft.

The problem with Cardin was, until this point, I had kind of just assumed he only bullied _me._ If he was only _my_ problem, then I could comfortably ignore him. It wasn't worth getting in trouble to handle him, or worse, show too much of what I could do to the other Magus on campus. But this? This was the type of thing I used to get beat up in school for stepping into _all the damn time_. Only _now_ I had an Aura. I had Magecraft. I had _friends_. Which meant I had a lot more to lose if I let this slide.

"Quit it." I spat smacking lightly at Cardin's hands to force him to let go of the girls ears and step away.

"Are you okay?" I asked her politely, not stepping to close to her. She looked like a wounded animal, ready to lash out at the next target that made itself available. I could sympathize.

"I'm fine." she said, a hint of resignation in her voice.

"Good, thats -"

"Oi Arc. What the hells your problem? You actually care about these animals?" Cardin jeered at me, and his three lackeys copied the gesture.

I sighed. To call what I was feeling anger would be wrong. I was mostly just... disappointed. Beacon was supposed to be a school for _Heroes._ For people who pursued that heroic ideal. For people who wanted to make saving _everyone_ in front of them their mission in life. Cardin and his behaviour could - if I squinted - still line up with those ideals when he was just bothering me. Heroes are people too after all, and it's not like he'd ever really done anything more than annoy me. Now though, he was basically spitting on everything I wanted to be in my life. Why even be here if he was just going to be a petty schoolhouse tyrant? He could do that in _normal_ school.

Eyeballing it, I guessed the radius of the sphere that would encompass all of Cardin's team to be something like two and a half metres with a little clipping here or there. Using that, I quickly extrapolated the rest of the math I would need, feeding the information to my spell as it formed, runnig my Prana through the gem I held tightly clutched in one hand. I could feel the steady drain of energy from the Gravity dust on my belt as the Sphere gem in my hand shaped its power into a gravity well perfectly centered on team CRDL.

Like a switch being flipped, all four members of the team fell flat to the ground, like a giant had slammed a palm down on them and held them there. Idly, I noted that Sky Lark was positioned in a way that would prevent breathing, so I walked around the edge of the sphere and kicked out with a foot, flipping him over. Then I walked calmly back over to the girl.

"Hey. Sorry about that. My names Jaune. Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, rolls of the tongue." I said pleasantly, completely ignoring the groans from the four boys on the ground behind me as they struggled to get up when their bodies weighed in the multi ton range. I'd have to cut the spell soon. If their Aura's ran out while they were like that they'd probably break a few bones.

The brown haired girl looked behind me with wide eyes, before turned back to me.

"Velvet. You can call me Velvet." She said with a touch of fear in her eyes. Hm. Maybe the gravity well bit was too much. But most of my other options were in varying flavours of 'kill' so I wasn't sure what I could really do about that. Note to self, figure out the exact electrical charge required to knock a human out through their Aura.

"Nice. Ah. Um. Will you be okay Velvet?" I asked again, not really sure what to do at this point. The cafeteria was still curiously quiet.

"Y-yes." She said quickly, stepping away from me. She looked like she would prefer to be literally anywhere but near me.

"I'll ah... I'll just go then." I apologized. Velvet accepted the apology silently, and turned to flee the second I stepped away to return to my seat.

When I finally reached my seat, I undid the spell, glancing over at the CRDL boys just to see how they would react. When they sat up, gasping for breath and sweating like they had just undergone a track marathon, the entire cafeteria burst into laughter at their expense. It was only at that point that it occurred to me that I hadn't actually said a single word to any of them while I was over there. I was in such a rush to escape the embarassing debacle with Velvet that I had completely forgotten the speech about heroism I wanted to give them.

"So... Cool..." Ruby crooned, and I looked up from my cards, where I was trying to figure out what to do next.

"What was _that_!?" Weiss chimed in, curiosity fully evident in her voice. I rolled my eyes at her, and then ignored the question. She never let me look at her fancy notebook on runes, so I felt absolutely zero reason to tell her the details of my own research. In a way, Weiss and I were two researchers studying the same thing for different reasons. It was almost a scholarly rivalry, and it was one I found surprisingly entertaining.

"Gravity dust mostly. I just pointed it at a single spot and used alot of it." I brushed off the question as non chalantly as I could. It was neither that simple, nor that draining, but explaining that would be way to much lying for me to be succesful.

"How long have you been able to do that?" Pyrrha asked curiously. She was doing the upturned eyes thing again, and I had to immediately turn my head away from her lest I descend into a ferocious blush and render myself unable to stand or leave the table.

"A few days. Figured it out while watching Weiss do her ice the ground thing." I explained, once again not bothering to explain all the ways it was _nothing_ like that, because no one but Weiss would understand, and as previously stated, I wasn't handing out free information to the white haired demon.

"Ah yes. I have been thinking Jaune. Would you like to meet in the evenings sometime to do some more research? I had a particular project I had in mind and -" Weiss began with a predatory glint in her eyes.

"Doesn't Jaune help you with your semblance enough? I have yet to see a marked improvement in his swordsmanship during group classes." Pyrrha objected. I wasn't the only one who was caught off guard by that fact. Pyrrha was the type of girl who would walk across the room to pick up a remote for you that you were sitting next to _just_ because you asked. She was so nice, and charitable that it bordered on ludicrous.

"W-Well its true isn't it? He's gotten faster and his stance is stronger but he still lacks the fundamental ability to strike back." Pyrrha defended.

"She's gotta a point Weissy. Seems like you might not be holding up your end of the bargain." Yang agreed easily.

"He hardly _needs_ to use a sword." Weiss said with a childish pout on her face. No one really said anything to that, but I did see a sort of general agreement on the faces of everyone else at the table. Everyone except Pyrrha that is.

"The ability to defend ones self in melee is important to _every_ Huntsmen. Dust runs out, skill does not." Pyrrha said primly.

"In fact, if you're willing Jaune, maybe... _I_... could help you practice in the evenings? We have similar styles!" Pyrrha thought aloud, turning to me and hastily explaining her reasoning.

"Actually that sounds like a pretty good idea. Your the only person I've ever met that uses a shield besides me." I said thoughtfully.

"Plus your pretty much the best fighter in the class. Can't go wrong there." I added after a moment. Then I shrugged.

"Sure. 6 in the courtyard good for you?" I asked after considering my timetable for a second. I'd have to cram my R&D time into the short period before six but after class, but I could _probably_ make it work.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Pyrrha beamed.

"I'll bet." Nora and Yang snorted at the same time, then looked at each other in surprise. Pyrrha and I turned as one to shoot them both a questioning gaze, to which they both just sighed.

"They're both just so _dumb_." Yang complained, rubbing her head in frustration.

"Worse than Ren." Nora agreed.

"Wait, what did _I_ do?" Ren squawked indignantly.

"It's more what you don't do Renny." Nora explained kindly.

"Is anyone besides me confused?" I asked, sticking a hand in the air. Everyone except Yang and Nora put a hand in the air, confirming my suspicions.

"Welp, Looks like Nora's contagious. Sorry Yang." I quipped, and ducked out of the way when an apple sailed through the air where I had just been sitting. I noticed Cardin and his gang quietly sneaking away from the cafeteria, and made brief eye contact with him. The moment seemed to stretch out for an eternity, but Cardin broke first, fleeing after his friends.

Ah, I love this school.

-ooo-

Several hours later I was out in a secluded corner of the schools grounds. Beacon was more of a castle estate than a school in many respects, and so it boasted several courtyards that students could sit in when the weather permitted. JNPR only ever used one of these courtyards when we wanted to train together, and it wasn't hard to time our visits so that no one else was here when we did so. Beacon was stupidly large. It was really, really easy to find somewhere else to be if you didn't want to be around other people. Something most other students decided was the case whenever we arrived on the scene. That had more to do with Nora than anything else, but I wasn't going to complain if the rambunctious girls personality had helped us out for once.

It was cold. Not winter cold. Just... chilly. There was a stiff breeze blowing past, and it made the cool night air just cold enough to be uncomfortable. I had Crocea Mors sheathed at my hip, and was in my combat gear.

'So thats how my day went.' I finished my nightly update to Archer. There were alot of parts of the school the Servant just couldn't go, so it had become our habit to keep each other updated on new developments each night. Mostly I was the one doing all the updating though. Archer hadn't noticed a peep from the enemy Magus in the time since we had arrived here. He also couldn't detect any other Servant's in the area, though he told me to be careful because that was no guarantee. There were any number of abilities and Noble Phantasms that could hide a servants presence.

'Hm. I'm a little surprsied you were so harsh with the bully.' He opined. 'You've mostly just ignored him till now.'

'Yeah well... he was mostly only _my_ problem till now. It's not fair to let other people get caught up in my splash zone.' I said. I had come to recognize that Archer hated very few things. But among them the word 'Hero' and almost anything related to it, was one of the things he hated the _most_. I didn't think he'd be overly supportive of my decision if I told him the real reason I had shut Cardin down, and I didn't feel like getting the silent treatment from him for two days just because I offended his delicate sensibilities.

Whatever the hell those were.

Abruptly, the skin on the back of my arm raised, and a shiver ran down my spine. There was something... something disquieting on the wind. A whisper of something that should not be.

And then all at once that 'something' made itself known to me. One minute I was waiting calmly for Pyrrha to arrive so we could start training - the next, I was pressed firmly against the wall of the school in a corner perfectly positioned to be invisible to anyone watching the courtyard from the windows above.

 _"Call you're Servant."_ spoke a voice that sounded as though it's owner hadn't tasted water in millenia. It was cracked, and broken, scratchy and raw.

"W-what?" I cried out, trying to buy myself a few seconds of time.

'Archer, S.O.S, seriously I don't know what the hell is going on!' I sent to Archer, who was no doubt already on his way.

'What? How did - damnit it's Assassin isn't it?" He replied.

'Pitch black skin, White skull mask, looks like a humanoid Grimm?' I supplied.

'Yeah thats him.' Archer answered before I sensed his presence appear next to me in the courtyard.

 _"Good. Reveal yourself or I will kill the boy."_ Assassin called out, a boney hand lashing out lightning quick to wrap around my throat, a single thumb pressed firmly against my wind pipe. I new full well how strong a Servant could be, and I had no doubt that Assassin could crush my windpipe in a nanosecond.

There was just one problem.

Archer _couldn't_ reveal himself. It simply wasn't possible. I had summoned him wrong, and now we were stuck with this sort of kind of summoning.

'Jaune, trust me - just switch.' Archer said carefully. Carefully, but not worried. I tried to gulp but couldn't find the strength to do so in Assassins grip. So instead I did as I was asked. A single moments concetration, and suddenly Archer was in the drivers seat. Assassins head whipped towards us the second the change happened, like he somehow _knew_ what was going on the minute it happened. But before he could squeeze hard enough to kill me, Prana rushed through me, reinforcing me to levels I could never manage on my own. I diligently fed Aura to my circuits, not all at once but just enough to keep myself topped and Archer primed to fight.

Even with all that, it was a close thing, Assassin still made an attempt, but with our reinforced body he wasn't able to do any serious damage. Not before we lifted a food at slammed it towards him, launching the emaciated man across the courtyard and into a wall. Before he even landed, a wave of _something_ slid over me. A sense of incongruity filling my awareness.

'What's going on Archer?' I asked, not bothering to specify what I meant.

'Bounded field. Someone is making it so noone watching can tell what's going on down here. Or rather, people will naturally refuse to acknowledge anything is happening.' He answered me.

"Trace, On." He called and Kanchou and Bakuya immediately appeared in our hands.

That was good, it meant that noone would get curious and end up stuck between two Servants duking it out. There was no way a student was going to be able to handle that kind of confrontation. When the dust cleared, Assassin was gone. He was simply no where to be seen.

Our lips pursed in concetration, and we waited, our eyes darting left and right until nearly the last second, when Archer pitched forward narrowly avoiding a strike from behind us that concluded with a dagger sticking out of the wall just ahead of where we had been standing. Like lightning we came out of the roll and spun around, raising a sword overhead to block the downward slash of another dagger. Archer swung his other arm at the stick thin mans legs, but was thwarted when he leapt upward, flipping over us to plant his feet on the wall behind. Instantly he pushed off, disappearing into the shadows of the courtyard again.

 _"My Master wishes you to know that she does not bear you a grudge - but merely feels unsafe in your presence."_ The creepy skull masked guy stated, his voice coming from everywhere at once in a rasp that I couldn't have been more scary if he tried.

"She huh?" Archer snarked.

"Hey cut the shit. Your an Assassin, if you were here to kill us you wouldn't have started a straight up fight like this." The servant of the bow said, standing up and rolling our shoulders once.

 _"True. A single Assassin servant could never hope to defeat one of the three great knight classes. But what about two? or ten? or a hundred? You are after all, much dimished yourself Saber."_ The voice rasped again, and with each questioning statement, new faces bearing skull masks rose from the shadows around us. They crowded the courtyard like an army of wraiths, standing on the roof, hanging from window sill's, emerging from bushes. There were so many I stopped bothering to count them as they appeared.

'Well at least we'll die knowing they got your class wrong.' I offered, somehow feeling the fear of death only as a mute sound in the distance. I was afraid. Terrified. But strangely, it wasn't so bad with Archer there. Maybe I was just afraid of dying _alone_. Guess I'm just selfish that way.

'Shut up Jaune.' Archer grumbled at me.

"Trace Bullet, Load." Archer chanted under his breath. Dozens of plain steel swords appeared, hovering in the air about us like an impromptu armory worthy of an army. Each sword was pointed at a different Assassin, each one quivered with barely restrained force. I found myself shoving more Aura into my circuits just to keep pace with the expidenture.

There was a stillness then in the courtyard, broken only by the passing breeze.

And then the door to the god damn school opened, and Pyrrha spilled out.

Several of the Assassin's turned to her at once, and she stopped to gape at the bizzarre display infront of her. It must have been quite a sight, walking into the yard expecting just me, but instead finding _this_ shit show. Pyrrha looked like she was still processing things when everything began to move.

The swords quivering in the air fire as though launched by some unseen hand, several of them curving through the air to reach their targets, who were pierced to a man. Over a dozen Assassin's launched themselves at Pyrrha, and Archer sent us shooting forward to intercept them.

But we were too slow. The Assassin's rushing towards her had been the ones closest to the door she had entered through. There was no way we could travel the distance faster than them.

And then I bore witness to a freaking miracle. Instead of Pyrrha dying in a hail of daggers. Instead of being forced to watch a member of my team - easily my _best friend_ dying right in front of me. She just _didn't_. A light came on in Pyrrha's eyes, and she whirled, slamming her shield into one Assassin and diving out through the hole in the encirclement it's absence made. A storm of daggers launched through the air at her naked back, but to a one they simply _stopped_ mere inches away from her, curving away like they were being moved through a stream of water.

Pyrrha rolled to her feet and placed her back against the wall just as Archer reached the encirclement, slicing a path through them that did minimal damage to our enemies but cleared away to my red haired teammate.

"Jaune." Pyrrha said tensely. "What's going on?"

"Talk later. Fight now." Archer growled, waving his arm and creating another volley of floating swords.

"Gladly." She answered, taking a stance against foes she honestly had no right to be able to stand against.

'She's a keeper. I approve of this.' Archer said to me inwardly.

'Shut up Archer.'

-ooo-

 **Merry Christmas everyone! Or Happy (Insert appropriate holiday here). I threw this chapter together during a fit of insomnia, and I don't have a bunch of time for editing because you know. Christmas. I'll probably come back and do a pass at it with grammarly or something tommorow, but for now, heres my gift to you. 10k words fresh from the mind of a sleep deprived man. If there are glaring errors in grammar or anything I assure you - it's because I haven't slept in 36 hours and I've had enough Monster to turn my blood to coolaid.**

 **Here we see a few developments. Blake assumes Jaune has a similar background to her (wrong), Weiss assumes he has a similar semblance to her (wrong), and everyone assumes that because Jaune is shit with a sword he must be 'weak'. Jokes on them I guess.**

 **Blakes an interesting case for me. She'll get more face time around the point in the story she starts to do the whole 'I'm obsessed with the White Fang' thing, but before that she seems really dead set on flying under the radar - going so far as to leave Velvet to get bullied when she obviously doesn't want to during the lunch scene with Cardin.**

 **Honestly, this chapter was hard for me because there isn't alot of canon information on JNPR in the early seasons of RWBY. I don't mind that because obviously I have to find space to fit the other aspects of my story that aren't canon, but its still a bit nerve wracking. I'll note that I haven't really decided on a pairing for this story. I'm just sort of letting things flow and seeing how I feel about it. Pyrrha is Pyrrha and even her theme music from the show pretty much explicitly states that she fell in love with Jaune basically in the first forty seconds of their encounter in the forest, and the vague antagonism you might see her show to Weiss is explicitly something her music hints at too - largely as a result of Jaune being a dumbass.**

 **Under normal circumstances she absolutely wouldn't be able to go toe to toe with a servant of any kind, but the assassin class has naturally shit stats, and Hassan's extra bodies have a fraction of** ** _that_** **score, which should just about put them in the upper limit of what a Hunstmen should be able to handle individually. And well... Pyrrha is Pyrrha so. She'll manage.**

 **Actually this has been a conundrum for me. In terms of a normal back and forth, (For the purposes of this example, the fight between Archer and Lancer at the beginning of UBW), Servants aren't honestly that much faster or stronger than a trained Hunstmen. I think its only when they start using Prana Burst and Reinforcement with stupid amounts of mana backing them up that they fall outside the range of what a normal fighter from the RWBY universe could handle. Berserker not withstanding because he's... Berserker... I'm basing this purely on the fact that Shirou seemed capable of keeping up with alot of the Servants in his war despite being just a shitty normy in a lot of respects.**

 **Lets see what else... oh. Still need a beta reader. Just putting that out there.**

 **And as always**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	12. Fledgling Friendships

We dove forward, narrowly avoiding the strike of an Assassin that had crept behind us along the wall and slashed for our neck in the confusion caused by Pyrrha's arrival. Without even looking, Archer waved a hand, firing the hovering blades he seemed preferential to using for ranged combat. In the same motion our hands came up slicing still another Assassin out of the air before his leaping attack could catch us off guard.

'How are you doing that?' I asked, a nervous energy running through me. We pivoted on one foot, lobbing Kanchou and Bakuya through the air at two enemies who were giving Pyrrha trouble in our peripheral vision. The attacks missed because of how obvious the attack was, but to my surprise Pyrrha seemed to almost _expect_ the intrusion into her battle. Rather then allow her enemies to retreat to safety, she thrust her spear out in its rifle form, firing rounds at the fleeing foes that distracted them enough not to notice what happened next - that being Kanchou and Bakuya wheeling back through the air at the enemies from an oblique angle that they wouldn't quite be able to see.

'You really think _now_ is the time for this?' Archer answered me tersely, spinning away from Pyrrha's battle to once more engage a swarm of Assassin that seemed to appear from nowhere. The thing was, as far as I could tell, Archer had reacted to them before they had even started trying to attack us.

'I don't exactly have a whole lot to do while your using my body.' I pointed out, even while Kanchou and Bakuya reappeared in Archer's hands, allowing him to parry the strikes aimed at us at a lightning fast pace. Again, I noticed a weird sort of foresight to the blows. We were faster than Assassin was, by a significant margin in fact, but faced with so many of them there shouldn't have been anything we could do about it. It was just a simple numbers game that eventually one of them _should_ catch us off guard.

But that just wasn't happening somehow.

'Eye of The Mind True.' Archer eventually answered me when there was a pause in the barrage of attacks leveled at us. We leapt backwards, evading another set of throwing daggers that slammed into the spot we had just been standing in and stopped only a few feet away from Pyrrha. Archer actually did a slight double take when we caught sight of her again - because counter to our expectations, Kanchou and Bakuya were still rotating around her. The spinning blades of death orbited her like satellite moons, scything out behind her at random intervals and lancing forward in a beautiful sort of dance that provided her the cover and room she needed to fight against the much faster and more numerous opponents she was facing off against.

'It's an ability that allows a trained fighter to predict an enemies moves and plan accordingly using past experience. I developed it because of how often I had to fight things that would kill me in a single blow while I was alive. That's its primary usage.' Archer finally explained, glancing backwards at Pyrrha pointedly.

'Usually.' He added, as Pyrrha ducked under a strike from one Assassin, hammering the butt of her spear into its gut and pinning it to the ground. At the same time, Kanchou and Bakuya spun out behind her, tearing the legs out from under an skull masked woman who had been about to leap at Pyrrha exposed back. The loss of balance caused the black skinned Servant to fall forward onto Pyrrha's braced spear, and my teammate easily reared back with her shield to shove the wounded and probably dying enemy off of her.

'Holy shit.' I exclaimed. I knew Pyrrha. I had seen Pyrrha fight. I had been told on _multiple_ occasions that she was apparently something of a big deal where she came from. I also knew that Servant's were one hundred percent not enemies that a normal person should be able to stand against. I didn't know how, but the different versions of Assassin running around were basically appearing and disappearing at will. It was stealth so competent it was indistinguishable from teleportation. And despite the fact that Assassin was markedly weaker than Archer on an individual basis, the fact that Pyrrha was holding her own was probably more alien a concept to me than if I found out Ruby was a wielder of a True Magic.

Note to self, casually slip 'True Magic' into conversation with Ruby.

As Pyrrha stomped on the head of the Assassin beneath, Kanchou and Bakuya finally ran out of momentum, and I could sense Archer dismissing the slowing blades as they wobbled through the air - making them disappear. She spun towards us, lashing out to her right with her shield, and then paused when no attack came. I noticed it at the same time as her, though I didn't doubt Archer had seen it coming. All the Assassin's were gone.

'Glad that's -' I began before Pyrrha and Archer looked at each other, nodded once, and then spun to place themselves back to back, waiting.

"How did the Grimm get into the school?" Pyrrha asked, somewhat out of breath.

"They aren't Grimm." Archer answer instantly, his eyes scanning our surroundings.

"Then what are they?" She replied calmly, and I could feel her shifting around behind us.

Suddenly, there was a blade mere inches from my face, the attack, and the _attacker_ rising from the gap in our vision caused by Kanchou and Bakuya as we held them before us. Fast as lightning, we rotated our body, and the attack slipped past, but before we could counterattack there was another attack from behind us. As if they had planned it, Pyrrha dropped low, and she and Archer spun around each other like dancers at a ball, smoothly changing positions so the new attack soared over her head, and Archer could bat away the dagger that had been headed straight for her throat.

The attacks continued like that, Assassin no longer trying to overwhelm us with numbers but now make single attacks, one at a time, with each new attack preventing retaliation against the last. Archer and Pyrrha spun and struck, and blocked and parried, until even Pyrrha started to look a little haggard. This was insane. Sure on equal footing Archer could probably fight all of these guys by himself, or just snipe them from across the city - but these guys weren't fighting fair. Now, it was all we could do to keep Pyrrha from getting waylaid as her reactions got slower and slower.

'Archer, you said there's a field surrounding the courtyard right?' I asked desperately.

'Yes.' He answered, the monosyllabic response more than enough to tell me that he too was getting tired of this. It was annoying. I knew Archer had abilities in his arsenal that could delete this entire area of the school from existence - but neither he nor I was willing to cause that kind of collateral damage to the innocent students sleeping in the nearby buildings.

'And all that's doing is making it so normal people can't see whats going on?' I continued, a plan forming in my mind. A dangerous, stupid, suicidal plan - but a plan.

'Yes.' Archer answered again, as Pyrrha ducked out of the way just in time for us to swing Kanchou wide through the space her head had just been, deflecting a downward strike for a large muscular Assassin to the right and past her.

'So if we leave, this should stop?' I begged, hoping my line of reasoning made sense.

'Maybe. Depends on how much the enemy Master really cares about the school. Killing us might be worth the loss.' Archer said, and despite the fact that I didn't _want_ to believe it, my mind hearkened back to the conversation we had once had about the grail in my family kitchen, and I knew he was telling the truth.

'We have to try. Pyrrha's going to die at this rate.' I said, trying to ignore the superficial wounds Pyrrha had slowly been accumulating over the course of the fight. The truth was, Assassin seemed to be completely ignoring her Aura. And I wasn't sure Pyrrha even noticed. She was evading using the least effort she could manage to conserve energy, and that meant sometimes just reducing the force of an attack instead of completely avoiding it. And that meant that if Assassin kept at this long enough, she would either get tired and make a mistake, or bleed out long enough that it didn't matter.

'I'm open to suggestions.' Archer bit out, forming a wave of swords in the air that laced themselves together into a dome of steel that encircled us and Pyrrha.

'I need the cylinder and star gems out of my pouch. Then you need to give me the body back.' I said, already having turned my attention towards the calculations I was going to need to avoid killing myself.

'What? No! Jaune, your a crap fighter and a subpar magus. Let me handle this. I won't let her die I -' Archer negated.

'Archer. Just. Trust me.' I ground out, trying to keep all the equations I was doing in my head in mind while I made my attempt to convince him.

'...Fine. But when this is over you have to find me a kitchen to cook in. This handicap is getting stressful.' He finally responded, and I knew exactly what he meant when he said 'handicap'. He hadn't said it in as many words but, I got the distinct impression that we were markedly slower and weaker as a unit than Archer would have been if he had just had his own body.

'Deal.' I said, and just like that we swapped. The sensation of my circuits rejecting my Aura was drastically reduced, since I had been slowly pushing it in instead of dumping it all at once, but I still had to focus to work through the sudden illness I felt. 'Grotesque' is probably too nice of a word to accurately describe it. Still, the moment Archer was gone the barrier of blades around Pyrrha and I began to fade, and I knew I didn't have much time until it was gone completely. My Prana - what little of it I had left anyway - lanced out, making a conduit between my gems and my dust vials.

My crystals were really just molds to pour the energy from dust into. The sphere one had no purpose other than to turn any energy it absorbed into a sphere of that energy. All I ever had to do at that point was throw together the adhoc formula that would dictate where that sphere would be in relation to me, and exactly what size it was. When I had first come up with the idea, Archer had noted that this method of casting could _only_ work because of Dust. Without it, the amount of energy wasted on not manually crafting every aspect of the spell would be prohibitive and stupid. _With_ it, I could essentially lie and pass myself off as a five element magus, whatever that was.

Once I was sure I had the spells set, I spun around and grabbed Pyrrha. It wasn't romantic, or friendly, or overly pleasant. It was just a sudden jerking motion that pulled her close enough to me for my spells to hit us both. Before Pyrrha could ask what was going on - and I knew she wanted to, the confused light in her eyes spoke to that - I engaged my Magecraft. A significant drain on my purple and cyan dust vials created a bubble of reduced gravity around us, and well of force beneath us at an angle that I was just barely holding back from erupting. The second the blades above us began to disappear, I released, and both Pyrrha and I were sent careening through the air over the school.

The difficult part about this wasn't so much the spell itself. It was just a sphere of one energy and a column of another. No what made this particular attempt at magecraft difficult, was that I was manually moving the sphere of gravity to follow us, ensuring that we didn't slam into the ground fast enough to turn our bones to jello. It wasn't as simple as just willing it either. I hadn't made the shape gems that way. No, I had essentially had to craft a formula to judge the exact arc we would be moving in, and was rapidly plugging in variables as we moved, praying my predetermined route had been more or less correct.

I was... _almost_ right. Daggers whipped through the air behind us for a few moments, but quickly fell away, and for several moments it felt like we were flying. The gentle swell of the breeze driving us forward in concert with our much reduced gravity to create an almost pleasant drifting sensation. Which was how I knew I had screwed up. I hadn't accounted for the wind in my calculations _at all_ , and about two thirds of the way to my destination - the roof of our dorm - we diverged from the path of my gravity bubble and started to speed downward at an angle.

Feverishly flailing for a solution, I took the cylinder gem once more in hand and hugged Pyrrha - then used a burst of force to send us through the window of the building. We landed in a heap of limbs and broken glass, tumbling end over end and ripping the curtain blocking the window from the wall to tangle about us. Our Aura's protected us from much of the damage, but it still _hurt_ , and it was all I could do to avoid swearing myself hoarse as we came to a halt against the far wall.

I lay there, under Pyrrha, a curtain, and a significant amount of broken glass, waiting for my heart to slow down. Waiting for Assassin to show up. Waiting for a teacher to come give me hell over tearing a part of the wall out of my room. When none of those things happened, I raised my head to look around, Pyrrha groaning and doing the same.

'Archer?' I asked, hoping my Servant would know what I wanted without needing to be told.

'You're clear. Stupid. But clear.' He said.

'Oh. Good.' I said, breathing a sigh of relief and relaxing - right up until my eyes met Nora's.

Oh... good...

"You know, it's not what I would have gone with but I guess hate f-"

"Nora!" Ren yelled, covering her mouth, though he looked no less surprised by our sudden appearance than Nora did - despite her flippant comment.

"Uh. Hi guys." I said with a wave from my position on the ground.

"I can... I can explain?" I offered when their only response was silence.

"Oh. Good." Another voice spoke from atop me. Pyrrha's voice. She was smiling, which I thought was good at first, but then I started to notice little things, like the way the vein at her temple was throbbing, or the fact that rather than get off me she had slid slightly up my body so she could press a knee into my gut, pinning me to the ground.

"Because, I had _no idea_ you were so good with a sword Jaune." She continued brightly. Nora snickered at that but not for the first time that night Pyrrha orchestrated a literal miracle - she shot Nora a single sharp glance and _actually_ shut her up.

I gulped, remembering distinctly the fact that Pyrrha survived a heroic spirit, and could therefore probably do pretty much anything she wanted to me without any avenue for me to fight back.

Yeah, this was gonna be a really awkward explanation.

"How about... we go to the kitchens and I can explain over coffee?"

'I'm cooking.' Archer chimed in, adding to my woe.

Of course he was.

Great.

-ooo-

"So you're family nominated you to participate in a centuries-old murder ritual," Ren said, summing up the complicated combination of half-truths and omissions I had woven for my team. The only real _lie_ I had added in there was the fact that my family knew about and agreed with my participation in the Grail War.

"Correct." Archer answered for me as he deftly flipped a pancake through the air. We had worked out a system wherein I told him what I wanted to say and he said it.

'Tell them I'm sorry I couldn't tell them sooner but it makes me sound like a nutbar.' I ordered.

"We had assumed that telling you sooner than this would make you think we were insane," he said instead. We were still working on his wording. Archer had a tendency to either simplify what I asked of him or barring that, rephrase it in a way I definitely wouldn't have. Which brought us to the next thing...

"And so, right now, the Jaune who is making pancakes is not in fact 'Jaune' as we know him." Ren continued. He had been surprisingly talkative since we had all sat down for this little... chat. It hadn't taken us much time to break into the kitchens despite the late hour - Nora apparently had been doing it pretty much from the first day of classes with relative ease. Once we'd gotten settled and I had set a field up to contain sound, the taciturn boy had practically taken to questioning me with an otherwise unheard of zeal.

"That is correct. The... 'murder ritual' as you put it, requires..." Archer paused, temporarily lost for a proper way to phrase what he wanted to say. It wasn't so much that we couldn't properly explain just... we were having a hard time couching our explanation in a way that didn't touch too heavily on the topic of literal magic. So far we had largely convinced them that what we were doing was just a very archaic use of aura, which had been my first assumption when first encountering Magecraft. It was, after all, a much more comfortable falsehood than the real truth.

'Just finish this pancake and switch with me.' I said.

'You realize that in a normal grail war, we would just kill all of these people.' Archer pointed out, upturning his pan to release the last pancake - which he had made under great duress - into the plate waiting for it. It wasn't so much that Archer refused to make pancakes. The problem was that Nora insisted he make _just_ pancakes.

'Archer...' I admonished.

'Fine. Here.' He said, and then the phantasmal presence known as Archer receded back around the corner in my mind I always imagined he lived behind. Funny thing corners. The give the illusion of separation.

"Sorry. I'm back now." I said, passing the plates of breakfast food around the table and sitting down with my own obscenely large pile of pancakes.

"And by that, you mean that the... spirit... you summoned has left your body," Ren said hesitantly.

"Uh. Yeah. So like Archer was trying to say, the grail war summons seven heroes from ancient history to act as proxies for their summoners in the war." I explained before slicing a small portion of pancake away and testing it for flavour.

"Jaune, that makes no sense," Pyrrha spoke up. She had been alternating between intense worry and barely contained rage at the attack on my person since we had returned. Needless to say, she was somewhat hard-pressed to put much of herself forward in the conversation. Until now at least.

"Sort of. Think of it like... temporarily borrowing someone's aura?" I said and heartened by the halting nods of acceptance from Nora and Ren pressed forward.

"Usually the Servant gets a body of their own, even if only temporarily. But uh. I screwed up. Really badly actually." I admitted, continuing to eat between words.

"But _why_ ," Pyrrha begged me. She seemed to have more trouble understanding what the point of all of this was than actually accepting the fact that it was happening. I could sort of understand why. I'd chosen not to fully explain the wish-granting potential of the grail to my team. All I had told them was that the grail had 'a lot of power' and 'could do almost anything'. I could tell that Ren wasn't buying it, but Nora and Pyrrha had taken the statement at face value and moved on, and as long as Ren didn't give me any shit over it I didn't really care whether or not he believed me.

"Honestly? I joined by mistake. But I can't really back out so..." I trailed off with a shrug.

"Hey no sweat, now that we know, Team JNPR has got your back," Nora said, flexing one bicep and grinning confidently at me. The effect was somewhat ruined by the whole pancake hanging from her maw while she did it but... it was the thought that counted.

"How are you just making light of this?!" Pyrrha asked, quickly growing tired of the easy going nature of the conversation at the table.

"There are at least twelve other people who would wish to murder Jaune. Six of which are apparently highly skilled heroes of legend." She accused.

"Well only one of them is likely at the school so -" I tried reassuring her.

"That. Is not. Better." Pyrrha bit out.

"Look, I understand if you guys would prefer I sleep somewhere else. No one wants to be collateral damage." I said after thinking about it for a moment. I had told them the edited version of the story because well... because I was a really bad liar honestly. But that didn't mean I was all that intent on getting them dragged into my mess. I most certainly would have loved to have some support beyond Archer to help when things got dire but... could I really expect that of these people? They were nice, and I had come to think of them as my friends but that was a far cry from them actually being willing to risk their lives for me.

"Absolutely not," Pyrrha growled at me, at the same time as Nora snorted derisively. The two looked at each other for a moment before Pyrrha elaborated.

"One of us will be with you at all times from now on. If this person is hesitant to attack while there are witnesses then we'll just make sure someone is always watching." she continued, locking her gaze on me. When our eyes met, her face instantly softened, and she affected the gentle smile I had come to recognize as being uniquely 'Pyrrha'.

"Don't worry Jaune. I'll protect you." she said gently.

"Ehem." Nora faux coughed.

"We! We'll protect you!" She amended quickly, her face turning a cherry red.

"Still... What about you Ren?" I asked, turning slowly towards the only member of the group who hadn't outright stated he would stand with me.

"As though Nora would allow me to sit something like this out." He said dryly, rolling his eye towards the girl who even now was pilfering pancakes from everyone else's plates. I had no idea how she ate so much and maintained her figure. I also had no idea what she would do to me if I brought the topic up. Once more having half a dozen sisters provided me with the likely answer; she would kill me. The other masters wouldn't even have to try.

'You've got good friends.' Archer chimed in, appearing next to the table, invisible to everyone but me.

'The best.' I affirmed, feeling an obnoxiously wide grin spread across my face.

"What are you four _doing_ in here!?" An irate yell came from the doorway to the kitchens. Immediately the smile fell from my face, and I exchanged worried glances with everyone at the table. Everyone except Nora.

"Don't worry guys, I got this." She crowed, before jumping up and sprinting for the kitchens rear exit. The three of us that remained watched her go in confusion, even as the member of the school's staff who had found us pounded closer.

"Run away!" Nora cheered happily as she bulldozed through the doors and out of sight. We didn't need any more of a prompt than that.

Team JNPR beat feet.

Yeah, I still had to start setting up defences for the room - now that the enemy Magus knew who I was there was no point putting it off anymore. Sure, I had to start trying to figure out who the enemy master even _was_ if only so I could try and convince them to leave me alone.

But for now, I was just a stupid teenager who got caught trying to steal a midnight snack.

 **-ooo-**

 **Just a short chapter for new years. I'll save a more detailed list of notes for the next one. To everyone who's been reading this fiction thank you, I hope you'll enjoy it even more as I continue it in the new year.**

 **Oh and as always**

 **Thanks for reading**


	13. Bad Ends

"Good afternoon class." Miss Goodwitch called as we entered Combat Class the next day. Nora was practically glued to my side as we entered, drawing odd stares from a majority of the class as we all found our seats. It wasn't a romantic thing either - that morning, JNPR or rather N, P and R had pulled lots to decide who was going to be stapled to my side all day. My team had decided that my situation was entirely too precarious for their tastes, and while I loved them for staying by my side in this, it was actually pretty annoying. In the space of a few hours they had gone from seeing me as a competent dust technician to an incompetent swordsman - even though my status as the weakest member of our class was entirely predicated on my unwillingness to just kill everyone I fought. Silently I reaffirmed my desire to take the class by surprise today.

We didn't have many group sessions, but it was inevitable that every so often - usually once a week - Goodwitch would gather us up for two days of evaluations, to see how we were doing. It usually took that long to see everyone fight when it was essentially one fight at a time. The week before I had shown some minor improvement in my swordsmanship, but she had still been over all unimpressed. Now though, I had my Fortified Dust, and my shape crystals. I was confident I could use my Magecraft without destroying the room.

"Today I have some announcements to make. The Vytal Festival will be held in Vale this year, and examinations will be held at the end of the month to determine who is fit to represent Beacon in the event. Naturally this means you will be competing against all four years of the Academies students. Even so, I _expect_ you to try." Goodwitch said as everyone found their seats. She turned her gaze fractionally towards me when she spoke.

Goodwitch didn't like me. I had no idea why. I mean, I could guess - I hadn't made the most stellar impression on her. But even with that, she seemed to be particular strict with me. She rarely had anything nice to say to me in class, and tended to spend longer giving me 'advice' after my bouts than anyone else. It was weird, and made me distinctly uncomfortable, but the weird part was that - with the exception of initiation - she hadn't really _done_ anything to me. She was just... really really strict.

"Oooh! We should _totally_ sign up for that." Nora chortled from right next to me, half whispering into my ear as she spoke. Behind me I could hear whispered conversation from other teams.

"Hey did Nora and Ren break up?"

"Were they even together? It was hard to tell."

I groaned as the rumour mill started to grind to life all around us. If these people knew Nora at all, they'd know that she had something of a single target sexuality - and that target was very obviously Ren. Unfortunately we were in the middle of class, and while people could get away with whispering to each other while Goodwitch spoke there was no way I could turn around and speak loud enough to be heard without earning her ire.

"I don't think -" I started.

" _In addition_ ," Goodwitch called out, subtly smacking her riding crop in one hand to let us know she could hear us talking and did not approve. I took the hint and shut my mouth.

"In two days time, the first year class will be embarking on a trip to the Forever Falls. This is a mandatory class and will be your introduction to field work." She explained, turning away from me to gaze about the class.

"Now, with all that said, todays matches will be as follows..."

The class went by fairly quickly after that. I had been expecting Goodwitch to call me to face Cardin at some point early on, as she had every time we had a group session, and so had begun class with a nervous energy filling me. But as each new pairing of students was called forward I began to grow more and more relaxed. By the time Pyrrha was called upon to face _all_ of Team CRDL at once I had all but slumped into my chair, paying only the most minimal attention to the duels happening below me. It was obvious I wasn't going to be fighting today. After all, if Cardin was fighting Pyrrha than there was no way Goodwitch would make him fight me. It was unfair.

So I spent a good majority of the class working through the defenses I was going to put on the bedroom my team shared. I had a little help from Archer - who had much more experience preparing for an ambush for a supernatural murderer than I thought was all that healthy. I would have to make shape stones for each member of my team - fuse a few different types of dust, alter them into a solid state, key them to the wards and -

"Next will be Jaune Arc, and Weiss Schnee." Goodwitch called.

I couldn't actually think of a response to that, and at first thought I might have misheard her. Me and... Weiss? We'd never actually fought infront of the class before. Not at the same time. And when Weiss did go up she sand bagged terribly. She only ever showed enough growth in the group sessions for Goodwitch to give her passing marks. But our private sessions were a whole different ball game. It had taken the white haired demon woman all of three days to realize that my huge aura capacity made me the ideal target for the extremely destructive wide area attacks she had been constructing. Worse still, the only way I could think of to even _vaguely_ stand up to her was to go all out - at least as far as my non lethal options were concerned. Which meant that if Weiss felt the same way, then neither of us could sandbag this fight.

"Gwuh?" I said, less a word and more a gurgling noise as I struggled to find a way to phrase what I was thinking out loud. Weiss stepped over the bench next to me to reach the stairway down into the combat cell, but paused next to me. Her hand fell onto the top of my head, which came up to her middle just by dint of how tall I was, and she patted me twice, like a dog being comforted by its owner.

"Come along Jaune." She said pleasantly, but when she turned to walk away there was a crooked grin on her face. It was a grin I recognized. It was the grin she had on her face when she had affectionately nicknamed me her 'Favorite Target' right after learning people thought we were having sex. It was the _same_ grin when she had learned to hold more than one glyph at a time.

It was a grin that said 'you will suffer, and I will laugh'.

My eye twitched once, and I turned towards my teammates as I stood, taking in the rest of Team RWBY's curious looks along with my teams bemused ones, and bowed to them.

"Tell my mom I loved her." I said with solemnity.

"Jaune, none of us even _know_ your mother." Pyrrha giggled, placing one armored hand over her mouth in a ladylike fashion.

"Ew we have to watch?" Yang chortled, and was immediately silenced when Ruby punched her lightly in the arm.

"Yang!" she cried out, turning bright red.

"Yang!" I complained at her, not because I found the joke completely without merit, but because I knew Weiss had heard it too - and I could swear I _felt_ the killing intent leaking off of her. She _despised_ the long running joke. I couldn't tell if it was because it was _me_ or if it was because it offended her sensibilities as some kind of Atlesian royalty. But either way, bringing it up was a sure fire way to get her to blow up at something.

"Any time now Mr. Arc." Goodwitch called, and to my annoyance she sounded _amused_.

"Coming." I sighed, and stepped over to the stairs to begin my descent into my apparent grave.

"Do we... I mean do we _have_ to do this?" I tried, drawing Crocea Mors from one hand, but forgoing the shield. Instead I pulled a handful of shape gems from my pouch, and swiped my thumbs over both sides of my belt, unconsciously checking my dust stores. I had replaced them this morning so I knew they were full - but it was a habit Archer had encouraged. Always be aware of your resources before going into a battlefield. A single bullet could be the difference between living and dying.

"I- " Weiss opened her mouth, her angry expression softening. It seemed she wasn't as interested in trouncing me as she was in hiding her trump cards. It was an interesting change. When we had first started training together she had been quite keen to display her full might at every opportunity. But somewhere between all the Magecraft practices I had explained to her, and all the swordsmanship she had taught me, she had adopted the very Magus like tendency not to broadcast her capabilities. For a second I held hope that we could both get through this with minimal grandstanding, and I could just use the fact that I was able to use my semblance _at all_ as a sign of improvement.

"I should mention that this fight will determine whether or not you are getting all you can from your present sparring partner." Goodwitch chimed in with a wicked gleam in her eyes. My face fell as Weiss incredible brain immediately seized on the implications of the statement. We didn't have a huge amount of time to work together outside of class, each of us usually with our teams for one thing or the other. And since Pyrrha had so recently claimed my after school hours for her own sword training, losing our class time would effectively make training together a non possibility. And Weiss was far to smart to allow _that_ to happen.

"God dammit." I grumbled, as her face immediately changed into the cold calculating expression she took when she was really and truly taking something seriously. When she was shutting everything else down just to focus on what was in front of her.

"You may begin." Goodwitch commanded, stepping back from the combat cell to watch from the sidelines. I didn't bother acknowledging her or seeing if Weiss was ready. There was probably no one in this school I knew better than Weiss, at least in terms of combat. Which is why I knew her first act would be to either try to blow me into next week, or create a barrier to stop me from reaching her. It wasn't a situation that came up often - because I was a shitty swordsmen - but my vast Aura reserves and reinforced strength meant that I would generally win any fight where I could actually get my hands on the smaller girl.

True to my expectations, Weiss waved her rapier through the air once, and a wall of frost immediately sprung to life between us. It was a good construct. It used minimal dust, but was much more solid than a wall of ice without any thought put into it. Where before this would have been an expenditure of pure force, it was now a work of art. And I had seen it so many times that there was no way I was going to fall for it.

I reinforced myself, urging my Prana through my circuits. I had long since mastered reinforcing my Skin and Muscles at the same time, and while that might be enough for me to get through a fight with a lesser opponent, Weiss knew me nearly as well as I knew her. But she didn't know _all_ my tricks. I used my Prana to tap the Cyan Dust on my hip, and converted my Aura to a cloak of pure force. Then I pushed off with one foot, launching myself at the wall. The Force Aura I had cloaked myself in did its work, immediately repelling the floor as I pushed off, and that single step was all I needed to ram into the ice wall, pushing out the other side of it like it was made of wet tissue paper. Without thought, I reverted my aura to normal, unsure of what I would find there, and knowing that my aura couldn't defend me when it wasn't in its default state.

Which turned out to be a good idea. Because Weiss wasn't behind the wall. She wasn't anywhere. What _was_ there, was a dome of over a half dozen glyphs, all angled towards where I had appeared - and the minute I did so, they began to barraged me with blast of fire and ice - the two elements Weiss seemed to favor the most. I tumbled forward, cursing the fact that I hadn't drawn my shield, and considering the best way out of this situation. Quickly, I tightened my grip on the sphere gem in my left hand, and channeled the blue dust through it, guessing at the dimensions I would need and then curling up as a dome of pure frost sprang to life around me. All about me the muffled sounds of explosions and the dull thud of ice spikes crashing into the ground around me filled the air. Then, after what I guessed to be only a few seconds they stopped.

Weiss had figured out long ago how to hold more than a few Glyphs at once. But I hadn't realized she could leave them as traps - that was new for me, and it meant this was going to suck twice as hard as I already thought it would. Thankfully it seemed like the amount of time she could keep a glyph in existence was still consistent with what I remembered, so I plotted my next move.

"You know Jaune, I think that's always been your problem. You have to do so much thinking to use your power that you freeze up when presented with the opportunity to think." Weiss mused from somewhere immediately next to my dome. I swore and pushed a pulse of force through the dome, splintering it into an a spray of ice shards that peppered the area around me.

Weiss danced away from where she had been standing, stabbing Myrtenaster into the ground and changing her grip on the rapier. Then a glyph appeared behind her, and she hopped backward, launching herself off of it like a wrestler from the ropes - straight at me. I quickly whipped my sword arm up to deflect the blow, then spun on my left foot to ram my shoulder into her, launching her away and giving me time to think on my next move. She slammed into what remained of the ice wall she had cast, creating a dense mist as she landed that obscured my vision of her. I readied myself for another attack that never came, and when the mist clear Weiss was nowhere to be seen.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of white, as the proud Atlesian girl slipped around me and through the hole in the wall I had created. I turned just in time to see her sighting on me once more - but this time when she waved her rapier the glyph didn't appear behind, but on the wall of ice. Several glyphs appeared there, and I dreaded the moment I recognized what she was doing.

Gritting my teeth I spitballed the size of the wall and thumbed my rectangle gem, forcing every ounce of my remaining Cyan Dust through the Mystic Code. The Ice Wall began to splinter and crackle as the force of both our abilities pressed against it, her attempt to turn the wall into a shrapnel barrage thwarted by wall of force in the opposited direction. With a great crack the wall imploded, once more shrouding the battle field in mist.

This was my moment. I could counter attack like this. She couldn't see me any more than I could see her - and that meant I had the advantage. She might have been learned wide area attacks - but I was practically built for them.

Lamenting the loss of my force dust, I channeled gravity into my Aura, lightening and throwing myself above the battle field to drift gently over the mist. It wasn't flight - not really. I was just falling very, very, slowly. Then I reversed the flow of gravity around me, abruptly going from light as a feather to heavy as a bullhead in the space of moments. I rocketed towards the ground with enough force to disperse the mist as I fell. The goal was to hit the ground with enough force to hurt Weiss no matter where in the room she was. I was confident that as long as I didn't land directly on top of her she would be too seriously injured - but this should definitely tick off some of her Aura.

Or so I thought. Just before I would have made contact with the ground Glyphs appeared all about me, and suddenly everything slowed down. I found myself watching the world around me as though it shifted into fast forward. Which was why I could see the mist disperse and Weiss come flying towards me but couldn't respond fast enough to avoid what happened next. She slammed Myrtenaster into the ground, creating a pillar of ice as wide as a car that extended from the ground directly towards me at an angle. The column of ice crashed into me with the combined force of my fall and the Weiss' semblance, and instead of impacting the ground as I had intended, I found myself suddenly embedded three inches deep into the concrete wall of the room, directly beneath the projector showing our Aura levels.

Weiss raised her rapier again, preparing to follow up even as I prepared to receive the attack - but Miss Goodwitch stepped between us with an annoyed huff of air from her lips.

"That will be enough." She scolded.

"Mr Arc, I appreciate that you have chosen to bring your all today, but I should hope you could come up with a tactic that is slightly less prone to collateral damage." She chided me. And then, much to my surprise, she smiled. It was a slight thing. One I would have missed if I wasn't so used to seeing a frown on her face at all hours of the day. But there it was.

"But still, I commend you. You have shown remarkable improvement and control, if not necessarily in swordsmanship." She said.

"T-Thank you?" I said, so confused by the praise that I actually had to pose it as a question. Goodwitch merely shrugged, waving her riding crop at me and using her semblance to pull me from the wall. Something I was grateful for. My only real way out of the wall otherwise would probably include destroying it.

"Think nothing of it Jaune." She said, and then her expression returned to it's usual disapproving glare - and she released her semblance, dropping me four feet to the ground with a surprised yelp.

"Next up is -"

-ooo-

Ah. The sweet, wonderful taste of a well earned victory. I would never, under any circumstances admit it aloud - but defeating Jaune in a match where he put the effort in to actually win was an achievement I would always dearly covet. For all his bizarre tendencies, he was if nothing else, an expert in his singular field of Dust Manipulation. Thing's he had considered routine and basic were practically non euclidean geometry, and I had improved drastically with him as my partner.

"Good work Weiss!" Ruby cheered for me, and I nodded gratefully at her. She had... grown on me. She was eccentric, and annoying, and loud, and a host of other things my father would find reprehensible in a team leader. But even with all that, she genuinely _was_ a good team leader. More importantly, she was _my_ team leader, and I had finally come to accept that. If Jaune had taught me nothing else it was that there was always a bigger fish - and that fish wasn't always rich or famous.

"Thank you." I said, trying to hide my embarrassment at the casual praise. One annoying side effect of genuinely caring about other people was that I was shockingly unused to genuine complements. Oh I could spend hours hearing the heir to some other company espouse my beauty and wit. But that was always a political game. It was disingenuous, and therefore, of no particular note. It was no more important the move of a game piece on a board.

As I turned my head to head the slight blush on my face, I noticed Pyrrha staring at me, squinting as though trying to discern something. It wasn't hard to figure out what. For reasons I couldn't quite place, she had a strange dislike of me. Obviously she didn't really trust me around Jaune - which was perhaps warranted given the... unsavory... rumors floating about, but Pyrrha seemed to have some other less obvious reason for her dislike that she refused to voice. She was always polite to me, never abrasive, and of course more than willing to speak amicably with me when the occasion demanded. But that was all. When the occasion _demanded_.

I rolled my eyes at her, the rudest gesture I was really comfortable making to someone of similar social standing to myself. She could dislike me all she wanted, it didn't change the facts. She might be Jaune's teammate, but purely on the basis of working together to improve ourselves _I_ was Jaune's partner. A fact that seemed unlikely to change given our showing in this class. Truthfully, Jaune probably didn't need me as much as I needed him, but he didn't actually know that, and I certainly wasn't going to tell him. His probably had never been one of power - it had been one of control. And there were few things I excelled at more than control.

"Um, Weissy?" Yang prodded, jamming a finger into my side in a way that sent me scooting the side to avoid the sudden intrusion into my personal space.

"What!?" I hissed at her. Yang was my teammate, and I supposed friend, but she was meddlesome in the extreme. Not the type of person I enjoyed being near when I was feeling high strung.

"Your doing that thing again." the Blonde explained in a stage whisper.

"...what 'thing'?" I said, blinking at her in confusion.

"Staring contests with Pyrrha." Blake explained, the taciturn girl turning the page of her book where she was hiding it behind the wall of students in front of her.

"I assure you I don't have -" I began but was cut off by Yang.

"You totally do~" Yang teased, and I found myself mentally going over the list of revenge options I had constructed for each of my teammates within the first week of school. They were all petty revenges of course. Small things that could be forgiven between friends. But I could only tolerate being needled about such things for so long.

"It's a little awkward." Blake admitted when I turned to her then Ruby for confirmation. Ruby merely nodded her head in agreement, holding her hand up with two fingers barely touching in the universal hand sign for 'just a bit'.

"I suppose you'd know all about awkward stares wouldn't you Blake," I snarked tapping a finger on the erotic novel she so shamelessly carried with her everywhere.

"I - you - that's -!" she blurted. I snorted, then immediately covered my mouth to hide the unladylike gesture while my team descended into good natured ribbing over our raven haired compatriots habits and tastes. I had come to love them all dearly, my first real friends, but they were shockingly easy to manipulate.

I turned my gaze back to Pyrrha, and found her tapping Nora on the shoulder, then whispering something in her ear before they switched places, Nora returning to her customary place by Ren's side while Pyrrha settled into the spot next to Jaune. Entirely too close to Jaune in fact. I tamped down on the annoyance, even if I couldn't understand where it was coming from. I'd see Jaune tomorrow in our combat cell. There was a formula I needed some help with, and really, no one _else_ was as qualified as him now were they?

-ooo-

'Archer.' I called as the Bullhead landed, and could feel more than see the spectral presence of my Servant leap forward to scout the area in response to my unasked request.

Two days had passed in the blink of an eye, and I was not at all happy with it. My team had become increasingly paranoid about when the next attempt on my life would come, to the point where they wouldn't even let me leave the room after class without all of them accompanying me. If that wasn't bad enough, the sheer amount of time they spent practically on top of me meant that I had very little time to do my research. What had once been an activity I attempted to sneak in during my downtime was something I all but had to beg to be allowed to do, especially now that Pyrrha had decided I wasn't good enough at defending myself to be allowed out and about alone. To her credit - she was an amazing teacher, easily capable of correctly the flaws in my stance and giving me advice that would have taken me months of getting my ass kicked to figure out for myself.

But she was also a brutal taskmaster, allowing for extremely limited breaks between training rounds and seeming genuinely confused when I had to eventually beg her to let me stop for a period of time greater than two minutes.

These sparring sessions were also the only times I ever found myself without Nora and Ren around, though I had no doubt they were somewhere close by and merely awaiting a signal from Pyrrha. A suspicion I felt was confirmed by the fact that they rarely took more than a single minute to appear by our sides after the sessions were done.

The good news was that, despite all the wasted time I _had_ managed to set up a rudimentary set of bounded fields around our room. Nothing to ostentatious yet - just an alarm keyed to make the stones I had given to everyone heat up if something passed the threshold without our permission. I had wanted to go for a screaming alarm, but Archer had pointed out that sometimes its better if your attacker doesn't know your aware of them, and I had given in to his superior experience on the matter.

JNPR and RWBY spilled out of our assigned bullhead, into the small clearing near the Forever Falls that we had been tasked with gathering sap in. I had no idea why something as pedestrian as getting sap was a task assigned to us at first, but when I had asked Miss Goodwitch - banking on the tiny bit of good will she seemed to have developed for me - if this was a common job for Huntsmen. She had said no - but that we weren't actually Huntsmen yet anyway.

It made sense if I took the time to think about it. We weren't fully trained yet, and the Forever Falls were close enough to the city walls that there were very few grimm there. Plus, if something _did_ go wrong, we would be close enough to the city to just make a break for it.

Our two teams had barely started to move off into the trees to start trying to fill our sap jars, treating the outing less like field training and more like a picnic, when Archer reported in.

'Heavy duty bounded fields surrounding the waterfall. Like, 'boil the blood in your body' strong. I can't get past it to see whats behind it, but if I had to guess there's Magus' set up out here.' he warned.

'Seriously?' Is every new place I go to going to have some mysterious magus living in it?' I complained, freezing on the spot and quickly looking around for hidden dangers. My team noticed my sudden anxiety pretty much instantly, and each of the broke off from what they were doing to approach me.

"What is it?" Ren asked calmly, as he, Pyrrha and Nora came to form a small huddle around me.

"Bad mojo at the waterfall." I explained, not even trying to explain the concept of a bounded field to them. I doubted there was anyone in the school who would be able to understand the concept except possibly Weiss, but he Glyph's didn't really lend themselves to creating the things, so even she might have issues with the concept.

"How bad?" Pyrrha asked, pulling her spear from her back and stabbing it into the ground by her feet. I actually wasn't sure how to answer that so I asked Archer for his opinion instead.

'I don't think whoever it is really cares that there are people here. Our landing wasn't exactly discreet. You should be okay as long as everyone stays away from the river. You should probably try to avoid using any Magecraft too. If the enemy knows there's a magus here they might try and do something about it.' Archer said, giving me his opinion on the situation.

"Pretty bad, but Archer says we should be okay if we stay away from the river." I finally answered after some thought.

"Hmm." Pyrrha mused, apparently not entirely convinced.

"How about we stick together instead of splitting up like we originally intended to." I offered, and that seemed to relax her a bit.

"We should probably inform RWBY of the situation as well." Ren noted, gesturing towards our friends. None of them seemed particularly intent on ranging that far off from the Bullhead, but Ren was right - best they know not to head in that direction.

"I got it." I said, pointing myself at Ruby and heading towards her. Weiss noticed me coming long before I actually reached her team leader, and strode confidently over to listen in.

"Hey Ruby. Weiss." I said, remembering to greet the heiress at the last second even though she wasn't who I had originally been coming to speak with.

"Jaune."

"Hey Jaune!"

They answered me in unison, Ruby with a happy jump, and Weiss with slight inclining of her head towards me. Typical.

"What's up?" the red hooded leader of team RWBY asked me.

"So, there's a problem." I said carefully, running my hand through my mess blond hair while I stalled for enough time to try and actually explain _why_ they shouldn't go in the direction of the falls. Weiss stepped toward me as I spoke, mild concern on her face, but was thwarted when Pyrrha all but materialized at my side.

"Jaune noticed something dangerous at the falls as we landed. We wanted to advise you not to go in that direction." She explained calmly, never turning away from Ruby as she spoke.

I watched the interplay curiously. The two obviously didn't get along. My best guess as to why was that they mutually consider themselves to be the best possible teachers for me. In a way they were both right. Weiss was an amazing resource to have on hand for my Magecraft, and Pyrrha was almost literally legendary in her swordplay. Still, when I had brought the notion up to Nora and Ren, they had merely frowned at me, and then Nora had accused Ren of 'infecting' me. Then they had descended into a tickling contest and promptly ignored me.

"Define something dangerous." Weiss asked, a glint in her eyes that said she would remember this and take it out on me later.

"Kinda can't." I admitted. "You're just gonna have to trust me on this one."

Ruby and Weiss exchanged a look, apparently communicating something between themselves far to fast for either I or Pyrrha to catch, then returning their looks to me.

" 'Kay, I'll tell Yang and Blake. Thanks Jaune." Ruby said, then darted off to intercept the rest of her team.

"Thanks Rubes!" I called after her. I didn't often use the nickname Yang had for her, but I tried it on now and then just for familiarities sake. It seemed like the kind of thing a friend would do, and I did genuinely consider Team RWBY my friends.

"Come on Jaune, Ren and Nora are waiting for us." Pyrrha said once Ruby had gone, tugging gently on my elbow as she walked away.

"Thank you for your time Weiss." she called over her shoulder with a somewhat less warm smile than I was accustomed too.

"Later Weiss!" I called after her as we left. She inclined her head to us as we went, and then we were back with Ren and Nora.

"Alright! Lets get'er done!~" Nora growled playfully, pulling Ren down into a grapple that pressed the taciturn boys face into her chest. Ren merely blinked once before slowly trying to extricate himself.

I slowly allowed myself to relax, and we took the rudimentary taps we had been given from our bags to hammer into the nearby trees. An hour or two of peaceful conversation, the only other sound the gently burble of the river in the distance and the dripping of sap as it slowly filled the jars we had brought with us. I had been at the school for over two weeks before the enemy Magus had deigned to notice my presence. This shouldn't be any different. Plus, I wasn't even using Magecraft here. It was completely unneccesary after all - there were basically no Grimm, and we were only collecting sap.

It took a while - Nora developed a taste for the obscenely sweet stuff and consumed a jar and half of it - but we eventually filled our quota of two jars per team member, and began heading back towards the bullhead.

As we returned to the clearing, we found RWBY awaiting us with worried looks. Pyrrha and I exchanged a glance then jogged over to them, leaving our jars on the stack by the Bullhead so they could be loaded with everyone elses.

"Whats the problem?" I asked after a second of waiting for someone to come forward and explain things to me.

"Team CRDL hasn't shown up yet." Blake explained flatly, and with significantly less worry in her tone than everyone else seemed to be displaying. There was no love lost between her and Cardin's cronies. She may hide her ears at school - something I had taken note of and eventually decided not to bring up - but she was still a Faunus, and Cardin had made his position on the species abundantly clear.

"Where do you think they are?" I queried. "They might just be taking a while to get the sap, or gotten lost or something."

I could tell before I finished speaking that I was off base. Hopeful - and off base. Everyone on Team RWBY began shaking their heads at once and Ruby spoke up.

"You remember how you said 'don't go near the river?'" she asked tentatively, and I got a sinking feeling in my gut.

"Well CRDL headed that way before the rest of us really thought to question it." she continued.

I didn't really know what to say to that, so I closed my eyes, took a deep breath to try and calm my frustration, then drew Crocea Mors.

'Archer, can you see where they are?' I asked my servant.

'Sorry - the highest point I can reach would be the waterfall, and I'm not touching that one. I can't get high enough to see over the treeline.' He apologized.

"I'll go look for them." I eventually said with a sigh.

"Jaune I don't think it's a good idea to run off without telling Miss Goodwitch." Weiss pointed out. I had to admit she wasn't wrong but... memories of a war in a far off land, memories full of blood, and death, and misery, were on my mind. Memories of a school full of slowly decomposing, and yet still alive, people.

It was those thoughts that buoyed me forward. Those memories that forced me to commit.

"You guys wait for Miss Goodwitch and catch up with me afterwards then." I offered, then reinforced myself to the limits of my ability and jumped away from them, soaring over the trees and coming to a halt before taking another huge leap forward.

'This is stupid.' Archer pointed out admidst the cries of outrage from behind me. There was no way any of them could keep up with me. Well, anyone except maybe Ruby.

'Nothing for it Archer. I don't _like_ the guy, but I certainly don't want him to die or anything.' I griped, already knowing what Archer meant without any further explanation.

'He's not going to be any more or less screwed if you wait two minutes for back up you know.' He said with some annoyance.

'Did _you_ ever wait for back up?' I asked already knowing the answer.

'No. You'll also notice I died fairly young. Maybe think on that a second a slow the hell down.' Archer snapped at me, but it was too late. I could already hear the falls in the distance, and I exploded out of the treeline to find the four members of Team CRDL surrounded by humanoid figures.

They weren't Grimm, that was certain, but neither did they look like real people, or feel like servants. They clicked and whirred as they moved, as if powered by a giant grandfather clock. And there was something distinctly uncanny about the way they moved. Like it was a perfectly choreographed action with no room for change. As if they could perform the same motion a thousand times and never vary the movement by even a single inch.

"Cardin!" I called as I approached, and several of the figures turned towards me, displaying completely smooth faces. No, calling them faces didn't do justice to what they actually were. Caricatures of faces. The closer I got the more details I could make out. Like the fact that the figures each held grimy daggers in one hand, while the other had fingers that appeared to be made of syringes. Or the fact that their bodies seemed to be made entirely out of a pearly white material that I could quite recognize.

Or the fact that they had no eyes, or mouth. Just smooth white indentations where those things should have been. For a second I wondered how they could see at all, but quickly shelved my worries. There was fighting to do.

'Should I take this?' Archer asked and I shook my head in the negative.

'Let me take first crack. I don't want whoevers here to detect a servant and respond appropriately.' I answered.

Cardin's face was a mix of relieved and annoyed as I landed next to him, sailing over the heads of the mannequin like automatons assault him. His teammates too seemed unsure of how to respond, but they opened ranks to allow me to assist in their defense regardless.

"Is anyone else coming?" Cardin asked, a faint tremble to his voice that he hid admirably.

"Probably not fast enough to help." I admitted. "What the hell happened?"

"We were taking a break by the river and then these things just showed up. Their weapons go right through our Aura." Cardin said, and he gestured towards Sky, how had a mean looking gash on his arm.

I blanched at the idea of that. I had assumed Sky was wounded because he had run out of aura. If these things could just ignore it, that meant I had to get Cardin's team out of here fast. They weren't nearly as accustomed to fighting without an Aura as I was. Which was ironic - because most people probably considered that to be an entirely useless skill. And usually they would be right.

"Get to the Bullheads, I'll hold them off." I ordered him, staring him down when his head whipped around to argue with me. I could see it in his eyes as he looked at me. The memory of that moment in the cafeteria. The moment when I had subdued him as an after thought. Then the moment passed, and he nodded once at me.

Good. He wasn't dumb enough to let schoolyard bullshit kill him. Wonders never cease.

The entire time we had been whispering to each other, the automatons had been advancing, slowly tightening the circle around us as the six weaponized humanoids closed in. My hand fell to the pouch at my side, and I slid a thumb under the button that held my stones in place. When the attack came, it'd be fast. Probably too fast for me to entirely counter. That meant I had to respond with overwhelming over. Preferably _before_ the attack came.

"Now!" I yelled, flicking my pouch open and jamming my hand inside to grab the triangular gem inside. Mentally I formed the blade that would herald my Magecraft, and slid it out of its scabbard, generating a barrage of lightning bolts that arced from behind me to spark and dance between the automatons. The machines instantly froze, twitching and jerking like a real person would if electrocuted, and Cardin took the opportunity to marshal his guys and flee, running around the smoking constructs, which remained almost entirely still, save for the occasional errant spasm here or there.

For a moment I allowed myself to believe that would be it. That I had been over reacting, and these things were of no particular consequence. Unfortunately, Murphy's law kicked in, and I became aware of another wave of the things silently dropping out of the trees around Cardin as he rushed his friends to escape. Most of the had evaded the attack and run out of the encirclement before it closed, but Cardin - valiant, stupid Cardin - stayed behind, bellowing madly and swinging his mace wildly through the air to hold the things back.

Annoyed, I fired another volley of lightning bolts at the things, and Cardin looked up from his wild flailing towards me. His mouth opened, and his hand came up to point at me. No... not at me... past me!

I whirled around just in time for a syringe to plant itself in my neck, the soft hiss of a plunger being pressed the only sound I could hear over the sound of my own heart beating. The charred forms of the machines I thought I had stopped were all around me now, and I stumbled away, swiping my sword wildly at them keep them back so I could recover.

'I was wrong. This ones on you buddy.' I told Archer, as I tried to move the energy in my circuits towards him. But something was wrong. My Prana... it felt sluggish somehow. Slow like ichor instead of the untamed rush of pure life energy it was supposed to be. And before I could even think to question why that might be the case, the things had closed with me again, driving more needles into me, filling me with more poison. My head began to swim and my consciousness narrowed down to just what was around me, which turned out to be the grass and nothing more, because I had unknowingly fallen over at some point.

I could hear Cardin yelling weakly behind me, and assumed they'd gotten him too, a theory that proved true when I caught sight of him, limply being carried by two of the machines past me and into the water fall. Then I too was being lifted, and the sudden motion was too much for me.

The last thing I could remember thinking was that Pyrrha would never let me hear the end of this. Two days of guarding me and the second I go off alone I get captured.

Serves me right for assuming Archer would always be able to bail me out.

Stupid. Stupid. Stu...

-ooo-

 **Eyyy. I'm back. Mid length chapter. So if anyone is curious about why it might seem like Jaune is getting a handle on Magecraft way to fast, its important to remember he's not very classically trained. He mostly just picking up bits of practical information as he goes, and is putting it to use where he can. Unlike a normal magus, who would have to learn their origin and element (things Jaune doesn't even know exist) and then have to learn how to manipulate or create different elements, Jaune really just has to direct the energy already present in dust. It's drastically less work, and requires drastically less skill. In that way, Dust is actually very much the type of thing that would be considered a rare and powerful resource in the Clocktower. Its just that its pretty much ubiquitous in the world of RWBY.**

 **So here we see that Jaune has been sort of blase about his own safety. He's pretty much always functioning based on the idea that Archer will inevitably be able to step in and save him no matter what happens, which just isn't true. Jaune still mostly thinks in terms of straight fights, where two people square off and try to blow each other away. Things like poisons and other more insidious options aren't really a part of his thinking, so he doesn't really prepare for them.**

 **Meanwhile - Pyrrha and Weiss don't get along. I'm not really sure where I'm going with that just yet. I didn't really plan it this way, but many of you readers have correctly pointed out that Pyrrha and Weiss are essentially Jaune's equivalent to Saber and Rin. I've decided to just embrace it - mostly because they're very similar characters anyway.**

 **This is another one of those chapters where dedicated FGO players will recognize some things, and I'm pretty hype for the chapters inevitably leading up to the end of season 1 of RWBY. I'm frankly amazed I got this far, but something about this story just keeps calling back to me. I post chapters for this *way* more often than I originally intended.**

 **Remember to comment or review or what have you if your into it, I'm always watching for peoples opinions and theories and such, not only because they help me keep things in perspective but because Review's are basically catnip for authors.**

 **Oh, and as always -**

 _ **Thanks for reading.**_


	14. A Fateful Light

It was dark and wet.

My powers of observation are amazing I know. It was a cave behind a waterfall so you would think that would be obvious, but the me in that moment couldn't have agreed with you less. I could barely tell which way was up. I had no idea how long I'd been unconscious, and if I was being honest I wasn't really sure at what point I'd woken up either.

I could vaguely feel myself being moved, two porcelain white hands grasping me firmly by each arm. As clarity slowly returned to me, I could see Cardin ahead of me in the same two person hold, his head lolling from side to side bonelessly. I suppposed this was probably the point of reinforcing my organs. Poison resistance.

Probably would have been useful information twenty minutes ago.

We were on a metal walkway overlooking what appeared to be a factory of some kind. Dozens of the strange automatons loitered about the cavern, which must have been artificially enlarged just to hold all of the machinery and freight moving through it. Conveyor belts stretched out into the darkness, only barely illuminated by the worklights overhead, each one moving dust and what looked like porcelain limbs.

'Archer. You there..?' I asked groggily, and was rewarded by a stab of pain in my skull that made my toes curl and my skin turn numb.

Archer didn't answer. Or rather, I couldn't feel the connection to him in the first place now that I was trying to find it. I mentally groped around dumbfounded by the sudden change in my fortune. I had _always_ had Archer before. He hadnt been with me long, but in that time I had just come to expect him to be there. My douche bigger brother that I could call for help if things got rough. And now... now he was just gone. I could faintly tell he was _somewhere_ but as it was _I_ couldn't reach him.

 **"Did you just** ** _do_** **something?"** A curious voice sounded out near me, and I found myself trying to force my head to turn enough to locate the source of the voice. My muscles felt like jelly, and I almost couldn't manage it.

When I did I was chilled by the faceless thing carrying me, its head turned towards me in an oddly owlish fashion. I didn't answer it, partially because I didn't want to tell it anything - but also because I couldn't really move my tongue.

 **"You can't speak, but you** ** _are_** **strangely resistant to the dampener. Interesting."** The voice said again, this time from the automaton to my right. I realized through the fog veiling my thoughts that the automatons weren't speaking - they just contained speakers. The voice I was hearing was probably whoever made the things.

"Wh-.." I tried, barely getting my lips around the words before being unable to continue. I wet my lips and tried again, putting more focus into it.

"Wh'you" I slurred, oddly proud of myself.

 **"Ah, that is the eternal question isn't it?"** The voice said, not actually answering my question.

 **"Suffice to say, I am one who seeks the future."** It said, eventually, after dragging Cardin and I further into the cave, pulling a door open and throwing us inside.

The cell - because there was no way it could be anything else - looked more like a hospital room than a prison cell. There were a set of beds against one wall, in addition to a small operating table and several sets of tubes that appeared to lead off into a hole in the wall. The beds looked ragged, as if an animal had been clawing at them, and four thick leather restraints lay open on each one. Even looking like a hospital room, there was a very obvious lack of anything designed to preserve life, and coppery brown stains were apparent on the floor and walls.

With remorseless efficiency, the automatons pulled both Cardin and I to a set of beds, strapping me firmly in place while presumably doing the same to Cardin somewhere outside my line of sight. I was coming back to myself now, faster and faster, and the more I was able to think on my situation the more screwed I felt we were. I struggled weakly against the machines as they strapped me down, but was ultimately unable to do anything more than elicit a static filled chuckled that echoed throughout the room from the things.

"Why...do this..." I croaked, my lips throat feeling dry. I desperately wanted something to drink. Even just a single sip of water would have been enough. Anything to get rid of the cloying sensation of cotton mouth I had.

 **"Sssh."** the crackling voice whispered. But the voice was so loud, the speaker transmitting the message from somewhere in the chest of the thing nearest me so close to my head, that it felt like a shrill yell.

From the corner of my vision, I could see the machine nearest Cardin withdraw its rusted and pitted knife, slamming it down in the large boys thigh with a quick motion, then tearing it out. A panel folded out of the things chest, and it dripped some of the blood from the knife, ignoring the haggard scream from Cardin as the pain broke him out of the fugue he had been in.

 **"Hm. No potential. Parts."** The voice declared, speaking more to itself than to me. The automaton's all nodded there heads in a mocking approximation of thoughtful approval. Then the one next to me withdrew its own dagger, and it was all I could do to brace for the pain as it came down on my thigh. It could have been my imagination, but I could swear the thing jiggled the blade in the wound for much longer than Cardin had suffered, and it's blank face peered at me in apparent curiosity when I refused to cry out. After a moment, the thing withdrew its own knife, and dropped some my blood onto a small rectangular section of its chest that extended outward to catch it.

 **"Aaah! Wonderful! A passable amount of prana. My Master is shockingly middling with regards to mana capacity. I had come to worry I would need to perform much greater atrocities to see my future built!"** The voice cried out in joy, and the automaton jerked forward in a single fluid motion, planting it's arms on either side of my head and leveling its blank face mere inches from my own. It had no eyes, and yet I got the distinct impression it was _staring_ at me.

 **"Allow me to extend an offer to you. The Doll's inform me that you were caught defending that useless pile of meat over there."** The machines head click and whirred, spinning so that the top of its head was pointing at Cardin. The man - a Servant if his casual use of the word 'Master' was anything to go by, had said the things, the 'Dolls' had _informed_ him. Implying they had something approaching intelligence. For a second I wondered what kind of tortured existence that must be. What kind of mind shattering misery must it be to exist without stimuli.

I nodded mutely. I'd met Saber, Assassin, and Archer. That left... Berserker, Rider, Caster, and Lancer. This guy didn't strike me as a Berserker, Lancer or a Rider. No, the simple fact that he had a secret base under a heavy duty magical field and was waited upon by magical servitors was more than enough of a hint for me to solve this problem. The problem was, knowing I was dealing with Caster didn't help me - like, at all. Telling him I knew would just mean he'd know I was aware of the grail. Coupled with the fact that I myself was a Magus, and it didn't take a math whiz to know how that would turn out.

 **"Wonderful! I am not a cruel man, so I shall make you an offer."** The Doll said, bending at an unnatural angle that would have caused a normal man to fall over, and gently pressing my head to its chest like it was embracing me. The rumble of the speaker in its chest was clear and without distortion that close to it.

 **"Circulate your prana young man. Circulate it, no matter how** ** _sluggish_** **it feels. Do that, and one other thing - and I will not disassemble your friend for parts."** Caster said, his voice an insidious buzz.

My eyes ticked towards Cardin, who was sluggishly trying to take in his surroundings now that the pain of his awakening had worn off. I felt myself begin to hyperventilate. To panic. As discretely as possible, I bludgeoned my barely functioning circuits with my will, spinning them to the barest semblance of life that I could manage. But curiosity overtook me. If I could just learn a little more about these things, these Dolls, perhaps I could find a weakness. An edge. Something I could use to escape. So I forced the barest edge of my prana towards the thing. And did a sloppy but passable Structural Analysis.

I nearly vomited in that moment. These... these Dolls were powered by clockwork technology, and Prana, and more than a little creative spellwork. But more than that, they drew on life force. The fresh, flowing life force of still living organs. I was suddenly terrifyingly aware of the fact that what my head was pressing against. What only a few inches of material separated me from, was a working heart and lungs, nestled snugly around a still living brain in a terrible abomination of medical mastery. I was not hearing a speaker. I was hearing the rattling buzz of someones lungs being manipulated with tiny shocks of electrical energy, with the subsequent exhalation being modified by a series of valves and pumps higher up in the torso.

"A-and the other thing?" I pleaded, struggling to pull my head away from the strong grip of the Doll. Forcing myself not to think on what Caster meant by 'parts'. Making myself _believe_ that it wasn't worth considering. I almost, almost succeeded.

 **"Bleed for me."** Caster crooned, and with utmost care, pulled two of the tubes down from the network of them running across the ceiling, attached them to needles, and plunged them in to my arms.

-ooo-

It's often been said that raising children is a labor of love. It is something one does to see and be proud of the results. The act itself is not particularly enjoyable, although Juniper had assured me fervently and _often_ that the act of making them said children was. It was for this reason, more than anything else, that I remained a teacher at Beacon. Very early in my career - much earlier than most of my contemporaries would eventually come to - I realized that I saved drastically more lives by training competent fighters, than I did _being_ a competent fighter. It was simple math.

And I _did_ love my kids. For all their foibles, trysts and failures. They were my pride and joy. That's why I could never marry - was never even able to bring myself to _consider_ dating. If I had children of my own, how could I focus on my charges at the school? How could I spend hours upon hours doing Ozpin's paperwork, arranging for them to be fed and clothed, watching out for them like an annoying mother hen that no one ever appreciates - if I had a child of my own to take care of?

So I didn't. I had many good years in me yet, and many generations of Huntsmen to educate. I was not an overly warm woman, and my students would likely be hard pressed to name a time I smiled for one of them. But those kids were _mine_. _My_ responsibility. _My_ pride and joy. My _everything_.

And yet now, one of them was missing. Well not missing - because that would imply we had no knowledge of where he could be, or what had happened to him. Sky Lark and the remainder of his team had been very candid in that respect. It would perhaps be more accurate to assume he was dead, dying, or being held hostage. Probably while dying. And that prospect _enraged_ me. Not just because he was one of my own precious charges, but because the fool boy had to be Juniper Arc's son. How that infuriating woman could raise such a completely talentless child and then willingly send him to my school made me want to rage against the heavens. In his first week here I had spent every available moment looking for something - anything - to use as an excuse to send the blond fool home to his mother. Anything was better than letting him _die_ because Juniper was far better at making children than raising them.

What was even more aggravating was how personal it was. This was precisely the reason I didn't have my own children. I spent entirely too much time monitoring Jaune, too much time reviewing his private sessions with the Schnee girl, too much time wondering if his team was treating him well. Jaune Arc was not my son, but in a twisted way - and damned Juniper Arc to hell for it - he _was_ family.

Much to my chagrin though, he _did_ have some talent. Not in fighting - left to my own devices I would suggest he give up on using a sword entirely. But in his use of Dust. It was like looking into a vision of the past, at a younger, stupider, less sex crazed version of his mother.

And he was _missing_. Captured by what referred to as 'A murder mannequin'. Cardin likely had been as well. But while Cardin had a wealthy father to throw resources at the school, a powerful backer who was willing to go to the ground for his boy, I hadn't heard a single peep from Juniper or Nicholas. And so it was left to me. The somewhat estranged family friend.

I exhaled strongly through my nostrils, and continued to slowly methodically load my combat gear into my bag. It had been roughly twenty four hours since Jaune had gone missing - and it had been deemed a priority to evacuate all the remaining students back to Beacon before proceeding with any course of action. In just a few hours time, I was going to be boarding a bullhead back to the falls to investigate the disappearance.

Jaune's team, bless there hearts, had been quite adamant that they be allowed to come - babbling something about a secret murder ritual or some such nonsense. I had done my best not to be mad at them, knowing they were merely concerned for Jaune. But it was a close thing - and the ginger girl had most certainly not left my office under her own power.

Preparations complete, I tapped a message out on my scroll. Qrow would need to be informed of my absence. More importantly - he would most likely have to replace me, should the worst come to pass.

Yet another belligerent moron for who'm I found myself playing the mother.

Maybe I should re-examine my life." _Mrs_.Goodwitch," I murmured, trying the slightly changed title on for size.

I immediately shivered at the horrendous thought. Not today, or any time soon. But someday.

Like when the Grimm had been defeated once and for all. That seemed appropriate to me.

-ooo-

I yanked a strand of damp white hair from my face, just barely restraining myself enough to avoid pulling my own hair. It was the middle of the night, and it had been nearly a day since Jaune had run into the depths of the Forever Falls and never come back. I cursed Sky Lark for the hundredth time, heaping all my bile and impotent anger on him. If we hadn't come across his group fleeing from whatever had taken Jaune, then we might have gotten there in time to prevent his capture in the first place. But no, it was only right that we escort the injured back to a safe location. It was what Ruby had ordered, and so it was what we had done.

I had briefly entertained the thought of asking Blake her opinion - she had no love lost for the CRDL boys. But quickly decided against it. Frustrating as it was, I had accepted Ruby as my leader - and that meant I couldn't contravene her leadership whenever I found it inconvenient.

And it had been _extremely_ inconvenient at that time.

I waved Myrtenaster through the air, flicking it through a dancing series of patterns that no one except I - perhaps Jaune - would ever recognize as anything more than arbitrary. As the blade danced I activated my semblance, and a dense grouping of Glyphs appeared on the ground, each one overlaid over the next in a pattern so detailed it had taken me until now just figure out how I would do it on _paper_ let alone in real life.

Slowly, like squeezing the last dregs of toothpaste from the tube, I pressed my Aura into the Glyph's. I willed them to perform as I expected, and slowly but surely, flecks of like began to form in the circle, each one insignificant, but slowly drifting towards the others of its kind to create an overall shape. To create a framework for me to control.

In truth, what I was attempting to do -perform my families most notable use of our semblance - was dangerous, and beyond my current skill level. I had been planning my approach to this problem from the minute Jaune had opened my eyes to the possibility of it. But my research, my planning, was still months away from being practically viable.

So why was I in an empty courtyard that night, doing something I had no business doing, sweating for anyone who chose to look out their window to see? Why was I making my fifteenth draining, painful, and _futile_ attempt at this?

I concentrated, and strained, and struggled, but in the end I had done nothing this time that I had not tried in the past. And to repeat the same action multiple times, and expect different results, was insanity. It was unbecoming of a lady of my stature. And it made angry as all hell, when just like the last fourteen times, the construct shattered, and the backlash of the failure washed over me, sending me to my knees.

Simply put, I was frustrated. Frustrated that I was weak. Frustrated, because if I was stronger, more confident in my abilities, I could have valiantly charged ahead alone for Jaune while everyone _else_ escorted CRDL back. Because the truth was, in that moment, I hadn't been confident. I had been certain that if Jaune's vaunted destructive capabilities had not seen him through - then I would fare no better. And that frustration was why I continued on stoically. I was in no way a fool. I was perfectly aware that a bullhead would be leaving tomorrow to take someone to investigate Jaune's disappearance.

And one way or another, I was going to be on it.

And I was going to be ready. That was a promise on the Schnee family name.

-ooo-

I tossed and turned in bed. I wasn't uncomfortable. For all the fame I had once, and still did, garner as Pyrrha Nikos 'Invincible Girl' I had never really bothered to spend any great amount of my earnings on being accommodated. No plush beds for me, oh no. Just what was necessary for me to get my eight hours, wake up, and go back to training. Day in and day out. Pyrrha Niko's had no time for friends, she had a goal. And that goal was the be the _best_ at what she did.

I snorted self derisively. And when I finally was the best, when I finally climbed that last step to the top of the heap, I had found it shockingly lonely.

The room felt empty somehow. I had come to find the annoyed grumbles I would often wake to in the middle of the night comforting. Relaxing even. Ren was too serene and calm to ever walk when there was no danger, and Nora could sleep through a hurricane. But for me it was as regular as clockwork. A sweet lullaby just for me. And I had woken at the appointed hour, in the middle of the night - and heard nothing.

Because Jaune wasn't here.

I rolled out my bed, and slid my foot into my slippers. Warm fuzzy things that had appeared by each of our beds when Nora had complained about the room being cold. No one had admitted to gifting them to us, but it had been fairly obvious at the time. After all, Jaune had mysteriously not gotten a pair himself. He never did seem that bothered by the cold. He would always shrug awkwardly, and say he'd experienced worse if I asked. He was odd that way, always alluding to things but never out right lying. Sometimes I liked to ask him pointed questions - very innocently, very sweetly - just to see how he would react. Would he tell me? Would he not? How much was too much?

It was almost like a duel of sorts. How close could I get before suffering reprisal? When did I pull back? Was I overextending? Leaving myself open? Did I care if I was? I wanted to giggle, turn to Jaune where he would inevitably be fondling a gemstone under the covers of his bed, and ask what he was doing - just to see him jump. But I couldn't.

Because Jaune wasn't here.

I could feel a lump in my throat as the thought really struck home. I was on track to being a Huntress. Probably one of the better ones in my generation. I was bound to experience this at some point in my career. This loss. This forlorn acceptance of what was. I just didn't think it would be so _soon_. Or... or with people I was genuinely close to.

I quickly turned my mind away from the ugly truth. It wouldn't do to lose all hope just yet. No one else had. But then... no one else really understood the full extent of Jaune's situation the way JNPR did. Miss Goodwitch had practically rolled her eyes as we tried to explain it to her. I could have tried to tell Ozpin, but what good would that do? It wasn't as though he would react any differently than Goodwitch. They meant well, they really did. But they just couldn't understand.

I shuffled out of the bedroom, hoping some fresh air would be enough to help me return to sleep. As I did so, I peered out one of the hallway windows, down into the courtyard outside Team RWBY's room. It was much closer than the one we frequently trained in - but RWBY had laid claim to it well before we had, and so we had respectfully found one further away. Brilliant flashes of blue and white filled my vision, as I beheld Weiss down in the yard doing... something.

She was sweating, and panting, and occasionally stomping around and kicking the wooden bench situated in the center of the area. She didn't appear to have noticed me watching, and I felt a pang of... something... just looking at her. Guilt possibly. Yes, guilt, for how I just couldn't bring myself to like the girl, despite our similar circumstances. Guilt that I couldn't find it in myself to be as forgiving of her haughty tendencies and casual disrespect for anyone's time but her own as Jaune was. To be sure she had gotten better. And Jaune had tried to mediate between us more than once in his strange awkward way. But even then.

Without really thinking, I found myself moving, walking hurriedly towards the stairs, practically on top of the heiress before I even really know what I was doing. She startled as I approached, but quickly recovered, blowing strands of hair out of her face and turning back to the ground where she had been attempting... whatever this was.

"Pyrrha." she greeted casually without really looking too closely at me.

"Good evening Weiss." I answered automatically, formality and years of press conferences doing their work in pushing the words from my lips regardless of my mental state.

Weiss paused in her actions for a moment. Gazing pensively into the middle distance.

"Are you coming tomorrow?" She said flatly, before waving her rapier through the air, creating a single circular Glyph on the floor, followed by another, and then another.

"Tomorrow?" I asked, not really knowing what she was talking about. I had been somewhat... out of touch... with my surroundings since returning home to Beacon. I briefly tried to remember if we had any tests tomorrow, but found myself coming up blank.

"To go get Jaune." Weiss said, matter of factly, and my gaze jerked from the stars above down to her like I had just been slapped.

"To..?" stared dumbfounded at her.

"Yes. _Pyrrha._ To get Jaune. I'm going to stow away on the Bullhead. Or hire my own. It doesn't really matter how." She affirmed, as the glow of her aura continued to condense in front of her.

I instantly felt _ashamed_. Here I had been wallowing in misery and helplessness. Fully believing that I was accepting the reality of things. That I was being responsible, and burying my feelings to keep plugging on in Jaune's memory. But Weiss was out here, getting ready to go bring him back. Like there was no doubt in her mind that he was alive and merely waiting for the cavalry to show up. Weiss, who I could easily defeat in a duel if I had to. Who was weaker than me by far. _That_ Weiss, was charging forward blindly towards her goal.

Shame burned through me, as I realized how cowardly I had been. How pathetic I was. I could see now what Jaune meant when he said she wasn't _that_ bad. And if Weiss could move forward with the assumption Jaune was alive still... then couldn't I? I, who wanted _nothing_ more than the power to protect those dearest to me. To be able to guarantee that my loved ones lived in a world where they need never fear harsh circumstances?

The glow of Aura grew brighter and brighter, and I felt a sharp sting on my hand that caused me to gasp in surprise. I looked down at the offending appendage to find a bright red crest emblazoned on it in stark relief against my white knuckled grip.

"Wha-!?" Weiss cried out from next to me, and then there was a final, blinding flash of light, and a figure stepped forth from the blaze.

It was a woman with fiery red hair, bearing a regal crown, and the bearing of someone accustomed to being listened to. A small part of my mind noted that her chest was unrealistically large, but that part was quickly overwhelmed as the small woman came to a kneel before me.

"I, am Rider. I ask of you - are _you_ my Master?" she said in a strange lyrical accent that was pleasant to the ears.

I stared down at her dumbfounded, remembering everything Jaune had ever told me about his grail war. About the dangers and horrors of it. About how he wished he didn't have to participate. About how he would most likely, die as a result of it. I knew if he was here he would urge me to say no. To deny the Servant her due, to dismiss her out of hand. To flee as far as I could go.

But Jaune wasn't here.

 **-ooo-**

 **Welcome to murder-death-kill Pyrrha. Your in good company.**

 **In other news, this chapter marks the moment the fic hit the 100k word mark. that's important to me because as someone who prefers longer stories, _my own_ _fic_ would be filtered out of my usual search parameters. Mind you I still read shorter stuff - it just has to come on a recommendation or from an author I already know.**

 **Not much to report otherwise. I recently started toying with the idea of going back to my other fic while keeping up with this one (Deku 10) or starting something else just for funsies. If I did something new itd probably be something with Skullgirls. Who knows. this stories my priority right now and Im having a lot of fun with it, but its nice to have something to shift to when I get into writers block here.**

 **Anywho. Im off to work, so as always**

 ** _Thanks for reading._**


	15. The Bloodworks

I had been fading in and out of consciousness for a little while now. I wasn't an expert on donating blood but I got the distinct impression that leaving my veins pumping it out of my body for hours on end was probably unhealthy. Dimly I understood that I was dying. Very slowly, but still dying. I could feel my Aura slowly draining away as it worked over time to help me survive the harsh treatment. The Magus in me wanted nothing more than to repeat this experiment later so I could examine exactly _how_ Aura healed a person. I'd always known it protected and healed you. That was a given when you understood how Huntsmen operated and fought. But I'd known that because I was told, and because I had experienced it. I had never _examined_ it. Never _understood_ it.

An aggravating moment of clarity passed where the drugs and the blood loss were suddenly a lesser concern, and I realized I had been quietly sitting on top of an amazing research topic and doing absolutely nothing with it. More so than that, I could tell I was going to black out again and forget about this soon - because I was thinking about research instead of surviving. Archer would probably freak out and lecture me when I... If I...

My heart sank and my head rolled to the side. It was the most sophisticated movement I could manage at the moment. I felt weak. So weak. And powerless. Powerless to do anything. To fight back. To even examine my surroundings with my Magecraft. I had always felt like my Magecraft was always going to be there. Just like Archer, after acquiring it, I had unconsciously considered it my ace in the hole. The one trick no one could take from me, that no one understood better than me. But that just wasn't true was it? Archer knew better than me. And Caster... he was Caster for gods sake. He had transcended mortality and gone on to become a Hero like Archer _just_ because of his Magecraft.

I eyed the two dolls in the room with me. They stood absolutely still, one by the door and one at my bedside, occasionally shifting the needle around in one of my arms if the blood flow started to slow. Once in a while, one of them would spasm or twitch, the motion jerky and uncanny. At one point I had attempted to ask what it was, hoping I could draw Caster into a conversation, but I had no luck there. He simply wasn't interested in me beyond what I was already doing.

"Jaune?" A voice called out from my left and I jerked, nearly tearing my arm open on the needle save for the sudden pressure holding me still, the Doll at my side twitching into motion and slamming its hands down on my shoulders to keep me still. It hovered over me in stillness for a moment, before sliding backwards. The gears in it's body clicked as it moved, and I shivered as the dagger that could pierce aura hovered into view. It was an old rusted piece of crap. I could tell that right off the bat, but there were clear designs marked on its surface. Channels for something. Almost as though -

"Jaune!" Cardin called again, and I had to resist the urge to jerk, knowing it would just be a repeat of the last time, and further understanding that my attention span was short enough that it would keep distracting me.

"...what?" I asked tiredly. I couldn't say I hated Cardin. Not in any great capacity. But it was impossible for me not to blame him at least a little bit for this. I knew he hadn't done anything wrong, hadn't broken any rules, hadn't been warned to stay away. But I also knew he wouldn't have listened if I _had_ warned him, just like I knew that no matter how much I disliked the guy, I would come running to help every time. Because Archer was right and I was a god damn idiot.

"Are you... are we gonna be okay?" He asked hesitantly after a second, and between all the bullshit, and being bled out, and being drugg and helpless I snapped. It wasn't with any great force. I was too tired for that. But Cardin was still sitting in his bed fiddling about, absolutely free of any reprecussions. They'd stopped drugging him because there was no point - he had no circuits to dull, and he was surrounding by twisting caves and Dolls. He had no where to go, and no way to escape. Caster was better served leaving him alone so that _I_ wouldn't fight back. And even then, that was only because I was more useful alive than dead. Which was the crux of all this. I couldn't fight back regardless, but Cardin being here meant I had someone to take it out on. Meant I could point and say 'it was his fault.'

"No. Were not. I'm going to bleed to death eventually, and then you're going to be killed to make more of these." I snarled weakly at him, not able to turn my head enough to look him in the eye as I said it.

"...Oh." He said. And that was it. I frowned, anger filling me and helping me continue to fight off the numbing sensation of death's slow approach.

"Oh? That's all you've got? 'Oh' ? I - the guy who you've been making life hell for - am going to _die._ Because of _you_. And all you have to say is 'Oh'?" I rasped. I would have continued, but A haggard coughing fit racked me then. My lips were so dry. Were they ever going to feed us? Or was that just an unneccesary concern given how long I was likely to live.

"H-hey. He needs water or something." Cardin quaivered at the Dolls.

"Don't -" I paused to cough some more. "Don't bother. They wont -"

 **"I will allow it."** the voice of Caster called from two directions. But neither Doll moved. I waited in silence, wondering if he had said that just to mess with me. It would figure. I glowered at he Doll by my side until the door to our cell opened, and another Doll entered, carrying a single glass of water.

It placed the glass gently to my lips, and I practically choked trying to greedily suck it all down. Then without comment, it left, and the room returned to the same stillness it had before.

"My grandpa died in the Faunus War." Cardin said suddenly, and all I could do was snort. An explanation of why he was a racist wasn't exactly the most prudent topic at the moment.

"My Dad always said that if Grandpa hadn't died, Mom wouldn't have turned out the way she did. Left us, I mean." He continued, ignoring my obvious disdain. Oh good, a sap story. Maybe Archer was rubbing off on me. I was entirely too cranky for this right now.

"So?" I asked, trying to convey how little I cared in as few words as possible. I was getting dizzy again. Vision starting to swim.

"So." Cardin said, gently rising from his bed to stand at the base of mine. The Dolls didn't move to stop him - presumably because they didn't need to.

"So I know better than anyone, that the Faunus don't deserve what they have. The White Fang? Terrorists. Every last one of them. And every single Faunus is complicit. Were better than them, and someone has to prove that."

"And you do that by bullying teenage girls...?" I groaned, feeling my eyes slide shut.

"No but I -"

"Come... on.. Cardin...everyone's lost someone..." I half whispered.

"Have you?" Cardin snarled at me. I was still awake enough to answer that, but refused to. In this one respect, he was kind of right. I hadn't ever lost _anyone_. Not in the sense he was talking about anyway. But it was fine. Darkness enfolded me and -

 ***BANG***

There was a terrible creaking noise and I felt something splatter my face, making my eyes snap open in shock. The Doll next to me had been pulped - completely and utterly. It's torso looked like a cracked eggs, only it was oozing a sterile smelling fluid that was leaking all over me while it twitched and sputtered against the wall where Cardin's mace had crashed into it.

The Doll by the door had whipped forward the second Cardin had moved, it's syringe covered hand headed for Cardin's neck. Cardin was ready though, and whipped around, catching the syringes on his armored shoulder, and making another wide swipe with his mace, stomping down with his left foot like he was the batter in a baseball game. Again there was a crash, and the Doll was flung to the ground by the impact, it's head flying off and impacting the wall with a dense crunch. He turned away from the broken Doll, unaware that it was even now rising behind him, not having anything vital in its head.

"Be...hind..." I gasped, fighting desperately against the weakness threatening to tear my consciousness from the waking world. Cardin glanced sharply behind him, catching a slash on one arm and from Aura piercing dagger and then kicked forward, punting the offending machine away. Then he did something I would have considered impossible, both as a result of skill and poor aerodynamics. He hurled his mace head first at the thing, landing the blow right in the center of its chest. It wasn't enough to kill it, but it _did_ stun it, and Cardin capitalized, charged forward to slam his fists into the things body, over and over, and it's chest shattered, spilling the organs inside onto the floor.

Then he rushed to me, yanked the needles from my arms and undoing the straps holding me down. I was still too weak to do much more than stand, and Cardin had to grab me under one arm and carry me to the door. For whatever reason, it was open, which baffled me.

"I'd say we've got another 30 seconds before more show up." Cardin noted, and I could hear the determination in his voice, even if it was met in equal measure with fear.

How the hell... I glanced down, realizing the crucial bits of information I'd forgotten when disconnected from Archer and my Magecraft. The Doll's had never taken our weapons. They'd never even bothered to strap Cardin down. He'd been deemed that low of a threat. It made sense. Anyone who examined a Hunstman for more than a little while would realize that they had a tendency to block or dodge much less than a person with no Aura would. Theoretically, a normal human with one of those Aura piercing daggers could have taken Cardin out if they'd set it up right. And there was an _army_ of these things down here. The whole time I'd been wallowing and given up, Cardin had remembered his _training_. He accepted that they could pierce his Aura, and acted accordingly.

And that was the difference between us really. Between me and every other person at Beacon. They were Huntsmen in training. I was a Magus pretending to be a Huntsman. Caster had taken away everything that a Magus would consider important from me, but he had deemed Huntsmen beneath his notice the minute he had devised a counter measure for them.

"How...?" I asked, still not sure how Cardin had managed this.

"The water. Checking response times." He shrugged, and I could feel my respect for him rise slightly from 'none' to 'some'. In short order, we were stumbling up the halls of the cavern, Cardin pausing periodically to look into other cages, into other rooms. It wasn't pretty.

"They're... Faunus?" He asked quizzically, and I could hear him _relax_ at that. Like it wasn't so bad because they were _Faunus_. But I kept my mouth shut. I would come back for these people, even if no one else would. I would get Archer, and maybe even try and bait Saber into coming. I didn't care what I had to do to achieve it. But Caster couldn't be allowed to continue like this.

Eventually we came upon another walkway leading over a large cavern. It was different than the one we had entered through, and I felt myself cursing inwardly. We had no idea where we were. We were too drugged up to keep track of the path we'd taken on the way in, and now it seemed like we'd accidentally wondered even deeper into the caves. Below, us two things were apparent.

One, was a giant gunmetal gray machine. It was humanoid in shape, just like the Doll's - but this one was easily the size and density of a Bullhead, with little golden highlights set all throughout its construction. Behind it, was a large contraption, with several red tubes leading into it, and a glowing fog running out of it, and up a much thicker tube into the machine. I felt a chill run through me just looking at the thing. If the Doll's were servitors, or minions - then that thing, that juggernaut, was the last boss. Prana radiated off the thing like heat from an engine. So much so that my mere presence next to the machine was speeding the recover of my circuits up. I knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that this thing couldn't be allowed to finish whatever it was Caster was doing with it.

The second thing, was the horrific sight of a Faunus on an operating table. He was clearly dead already, his chest cavity neatly opened to pull the important pats from it. Said parts were sitting in a clear vat the size of a human torso, with half of what would become a magic formula etched out on it. It looked as though whoever had been working on it had vacated the area quite quickly.

Sudden horror suffused me as the truth dawned on me, and my head whipped back towards the giant machine. Even as it began to groan with pressure, and creak. Steam began to pour from it's joints like a badly bolted together boiler. At the same time, the march of feet approached from either side of the walkway, and I turned to see dozens of Dolls charging at us. Dozens of Aura piercing daggers were leveled at our heads, and I could sense more than see more of the things climbing the struts of the walkway to reach us from below. I had no idea where they had come from. They were stupidly fast and quiet when they wanted to be.

I was just about to test my weakened circuits and draw my sword when I froze. A single red light, a baleful glowing eye was leveled at us. The juggernaut, the _armor_ stood, turning to loom over the walkway and fill much of the cavern with it's full size.

And I knew, without any explanation, that what I was looking at must be Casters Noble Phantasm. His true form.

 **"Bare witness to the future - and** ** _die."_**

-ooo-

"Onward, to battle!" Cried Rider, looming over Weiss and I as we huddle in her Chariot, watching the world zip past beneath us and hugging each other for support.

"This is _insane!_ " screeched Weiss, helplessly kicking her legs to try and scrabble towards the front of the chariot. The _flying_ chariot. The flying chariot with _no rear door_ , leaving its riders free to step off of it at a moments notice.

"Truly, the size of your city is beyond imagining." conceded Rider, removing one hand from the reins and gesturing at Vale as it disappeared behind us.

"Thats not what I meant!" she bellowed, desperate to be heard over the high winds as they rushed past us. The night had been... eventful. After Rider's arrival, Weiss had immediately begun to command her, not understanding that while she had summoned the Servant, she was not it's Master. That fact, along with my explanation of Jaune's involvement in the Grail War, had practically sent the white haired girl into a catatonic state of apoplexy, before she had managed to calm down. Then it had been my turn to feel annoyed, when Weiss had explained that Rider _must_ be her Servant. After all, Jaune had been teaching her his strange craft for some time now. His _secret_ craft. That he refused to explain in great detail, or show anyone the workings of. And he had been teaching Weiss Schnee of all people.

"I - I'm sure Rider wouldn't let us fall!" I answered her, though that didn't stop me from clinging on for dear life.

"Indeed, have no fear. Andraste has blessed this chariot of mine. You are entirely safe upon it." The loud woman declared.

"And what basis do you have to believe that!?" Weiss countered instantly. Perhaps because it was her nature, or perhaps it was because she was more familiar with Jaune's power than I - but she seemed to question everything when it came to the Servant. How did she do this? Where did that come from? Why did she appear? It was unending really.

"Magic of course!" Rider yelled once more, and the chariot took a sharp turn downward, as she raced after the Bullhead we had been tailing. Rider had offered to steal the vehicle for us, citing her 'A class Riding Skill' as grounds for her ability to pilot it, but I had been forced to agree with Weiss in that respect - I would not, under any circumstances, allow a thousand year old warrior to pilot a modern Bullhead. It would be suicide. Not that this was much better...

We leveled out quickly, flying over the landed form of the Bullhead in the same clearing it had stopped during our field trip. We had already explained the specifics of the situation to rider, so she knew our target was the waterfall. We zoomed past only slightly above the tree tops, and I feared the chariot would crash into the cliffside the waterfall fell from for a moment before Rider showcased her immaculate skill at controlling the vehicle once more. We swerved to the left, making a quick loop the caused Weiss and I to be flattened against the the floor. Above us, Rider frowned.

"There is an opening behind the falls, but my Chariot cannot pass through it." She said to my unasked question.

"A cave? There must be another way in. No one smart would set up somewhere with only on way out." Weiss murmured, partly to us, and partly to herself. She had a tendency to think out loud. A trait she seemed to share with Jaune, which I found irksome for some reason.

"Perhaps -" I began, but was cut off as a loud boom filled the air, and shards of stone and blew away from the cavern. The explosions continued on for several moments, forcing Rider to pull up, and when she did, we finally understood _why_ there were explosions.

Someone else was here. Someone _besides_ Glynda Goodwitch, who we'd not seen since arriving. She had gotten here ahead of us, and didn't have the same size limitations as Rider's chariot - so she was most likely already inside. No, what we saw below us were men and women, wearing black tactical gear and white masks in emulation of the Grimm. It was strange. I had never seen a member of the white fang before - but their exploits were such that it was impossible to miss them once you had seen them. And there were dozens of them, marching through the woods with military precision. If that was all, it might have ended there. Unfortunately...

"Ah! Wonderful, Amazing, Fantastic! Woman! Stand by my side and help me vanquish this evil from the world!" Decried a jovial voice that somehow carried above the explosions, and the soliders, and just... everything. I felt a sudden wave of _need_ fill me. A need to obey and and assist a need to -

The chariot moved again, and the sensation was dispelled, and a wave of pressure emanated from Rider that I could only reasonably describe as 'killing intent'.

"Romans." She snarled, as the chariot drove forward. I had just enough time to exchange looks with Weiss before we had crashed into something. Where before Rider had maneuvered her cart with consumate skill, weaving over and around obstacles, now she seemed not to care. She raced across the ground towards the speaker who had momentarily enchanted me, and the chariot shook, when a large golden hand grabbed onto its front, slowing the charge and dragging us to a stop. Weiss and I took the opportunity to stand, and found a rotund man wearing a laurel and a crisp red suit standing before us. His sandaled feet were dug firmly into the ground, and one of his arms wore what I could only describe as the polished bronze arm of a statue. It had no joints, and should have been unable to move - but it was pressed firmly against Riders vehicle, stopping it in it's tracks and flexing as though it were made of real muscle. In the mans other hand, he bore a sword, a sword that was somehow both familiar and alien to me. I couldn't quite understand why, and I spent entirely too long staring perplexed at it, only jerking my eyes away when Rider yelled at me.

"You must ride forth without me, for my enemy - " Rider cried out, shoving us away from the cart with some invisible force. "- is right _here!_ " she finished, and once we were out of the cart I could understand why she had made us leave it. Within moments of of us leaving its confines, the cart began to glow - and I could _feel_ my aura beginning to drain, to fall away from me as though I had been attacked. Then the chariot simply disappeared, along with the man who had been holding it. It didn't vanish as in 'turn invisible' either. It had simply taken off with such force that the ground beneath it had been obliterated, and my eyes were unable to follow it's movement. I instantly blanched at that realization. That something could move so fast as to be invisible to even my trained eyesight.

Jaune had once told me Assassin was the weakest servant, and that the version of him that I had fought was further diminished somehow. He had not been unkind in his explanation, but he had made clear in no uncertain terms that I should never, under any circumstances, endeavor to fight a Servant personally - because I would certainly die. I had disregarded his sentiments as both concern and an ignorance of my true abilities, something I tried my best to hide while at school. But this was eye opening. This explained much. This _was_ beyond my capabilities.

For now. It was beyond me - now. If Servant's were heroes of old as Jaune had once said, then there was no reason someone else couldn't ascend to that same strength. I turned away from where Rider had been, even as my aura drained and I could sense her somewhere in the distance with some heretofore unexplained link. The sounds of trees exploding on impact with her chariot were faint but noticeable, and I quickly withdrew my weapon to focus on the new enemies that now surrounded us. Dozens of members of the White Fang - terrorists if the news was to be believed. That were looking at us, weighing there options, considering. Weiss already had her weapon upon, with multiple Glyph's whirling behind her like the wings of an angel of death.

I too drew my weapon, and set up next to Weiss. I knew my role. Weiss was an excellent long range attacker - but lacked in the close range department. It was a role I was comfortable filling. And then, for the second time, something surprised me. Because the cat faunus that appeared to be leading this group, waved his hands, and spoke.

"Leave them. The emperor wishes us to save our comrades - not engage in meaningless bloodshed." he called, turning to leave.

"Wait!" Weiss yelled angrily after them, but was ignored.

"I said _wait!_ You overgrown house pet!" she said again when none of them answered her. Several of them stiffened at that, reaching for their weapons.

"What?" the leader finally said, turning back towards us.

"What are you here for?" she asked imperiously, and I had to roll my eyes. The woman certainly knew how to make enemies if nothing else.

"For the last two weeks, faunus who are caught unawares after dark have been disappearing - never to be heard from again. The emperors councilor tracked the disappearances to this cave system. The police have done nothing. We fear the worst." He explained.

"Thats... all?" Weiss asked and more faunus turned to her, rage filling them.

"Ah. What she means is - we too have come to rescue someone. We didn't realize our goals aligned." I jumped in, realizing how dismissive Weiss' statement could sound to someone who didn't know her.

I locked eyes with their leader for a moment, and then he snorted, motioning his group forward and into the cave. Weiss appeared as though she had more to say but I bumped her with my hip to silence her. She glared at me, which was to be expected I suppose - but eventually, she closed her mouth.

With a sigh of relief, we followed the White Fang into the base.

"Why did they fire explosives at the entrance though?" I asked idly to which Weiss apparently had an immediate reply.

"Their were wards on the stone set to kill any intruders. Presumably the explosions were meant to knock those specific patterns off the wall so that they could enter freely."

I turned towards her, still moving forward but curious as to what else she might know.

"Kill us? How?" I asked worriedly, knowing we had basically been about to charge in on a literal chariot.

"Quickly." was Weiss' only response.

"I... see."

Oh Jaune. please be alright.

-ooo-

We were screwed. That was the answer I had finally come to after several pregnant seconds of silent consideration, waiting for the Dolls - or Caster - to make a move. We were surrounded by enemies that could pierce our Aura, and an enemy Servant of indeterminate power. Cardin could probably survive for a little while before they took him down but I was drained. My prana was sluggish and barely moving, my connection to Archer was still shot, and my Aura was low just from keeping me alive this long. And to top it all off - we had no idea which way was 'out'.

My eyes searched the room for something, anything that could be of use. But there really wasn't anything I could do. Just as I was about to give up all hope, and tell Cardin to run while I distracted them -again - a shockwave shook the cave, causing the stalactites on the cave ceiling to shake ominously, like a thousand blades thirsting for the blood of their enemies. Caster paused, turning to face away from us - and I temporarily considered causing an explosion to drop the ceiling down on us. But then I remembered I couldn't. Because I was useless.

 **"It seems I have other guests. I leave you to my Dolls. Play nice."** Caster told us, before simply... fading away. I knew it was something Archer could do - become intangible and invisible - and I should have realized Caster could do it the moment I had noted that his armor was too large to actually exit this cave - but it still took me by surprise.

"What the hell?!" Cardin choked out watching the metal monster vanish from sight. And then the Dolls were upon us. We had a slight advantage in that the walkway was narrow, and fewer of them could come at us at once. But it was a fleeting benefit. I fumbled my sword and shield out, relying on my months of training as a powerless human to deflect attacks with the minimum effort, desperately trying to conserve and horde my energy. To wait it out long enough for my aura to help me recover. To stall until my Prana returned to normal and I could really _fight._

But I knew that wasn't going to happen. There were too many of them, and while Cardin's sweeping attacks were holding his side of the walkway, I was being pushed back, step by step, until I was only a foot away from Cardin himself.

"Cardin - you need to run." I panted, desperately throwing my shield arm up in less of a block and more of a weak slap to shift an outstretched dagger away from my face.

"No." He barked stonily, bringing his mace down on a Doll and pulping it in one hit. He was strong enough to obliterate these things now that he knew he had to avoid the poison they held - but he was outnumbered, and his only backup was me. Sooner or later he'd get tired, or make a mistake, and then we'd _both_ die.

"Cardin -"

"Shut up and fight Jaune!" he growled sweeping his mace out from below him in an upward strike that sent one Doll reeling into another, preventing the second attack entirely. I turned to see his face as he spoke, and was struck by something. Something I had noticed before but that I hadn't really internalized till now.

Cardin was terrified. Not just scared of battle or antsy. Genuinely terrified. I could see it etched in the lines of his face. And that realization made me think of something else. I _wasn't_ scared. I had been mad. I had been annoyed. I had accepted my fate at one point. But I wasn't really _scared_. I was in a state of emotional limbo where being afraid simply felt like too much work. So while I was fighting while trying to find a way _not_ to be fighting - Cardin was fighting with everything he had. Every ounce of his being. He was putting himself on the line, when he knew he could probably just run away. Because of me. The guy who _couldn't_ run away. I remembered my earliest thoughts on Cardin being that he wasn't ever meant to be a hero. The disdain I had felt for him then.

But here I was, practically having given up already. Where was the Jaune who had learned literal magic to achieve my dreams? The Jaune who had fought terrorists on the train, and braved the emerald forest. Was I always like this? Had my determination always been to only do what was in my power and nothing else? Of course not. I had been powerless once, and through my wit and determination I had clawed my way out of that hole to get to where I was.

And I could do it again. My eyes snapped to the red tubes, spilling droplets of blood onto the floor of the cavern, then fell to Crocea Mors.

"Down!" I yelled, and half jumped half fell off the walkway, trying to aim myself at a spot I would be able to reach the tubes. Cardin reacted instantly, leaping down beside me. A part of me that was used to grievous physical injury noted that my right leg was pretty much broken, my Aura having given up in the fall. I really hoped I was right about this. Hope I hadn't just killed us both for nothing.

Fast as I could, I jammed a handful of the bleeding tubes into the the shield of Crocea Mors. Lacking my shield, and barely standing, Cardin stepped in, batting away Dolls as they leapt at us with quick rapid swipes of his mace.

"Come on, come on..." I murmured. When the sheathe was entirely full - practically **bursting** with the waters of life - I rammed my blade into it, extending my sense. Blood could contain Prana. Mine obviously did, thats why Caster wanted it after all. Which meant, if I was lucky, If Caster was just dumb enough to forget I was a magus, then this blood was _mine_. And so was the Prana within it.

I sent my mind forth, quickly using the energy inside the viscious fluid to connect the blade and the sheathe. The response was immediate, and my mind was assaulted by the overwhelming sensation of the Yellow Death as it stretched a metaphysical finger into my mind to see what I wanted. Whatever it saw there, it seemed _most_ pleased by it, quickly agreeing to my terms.

And then Crocea Mors, the mystic code made by my great grandfather to hold a powerful, dangerous, elemental - shattered.

The results were immediate. Everything metal object in our surroundings glimmered for a moment. And then began to move. Claws and teeth and gripping hands ripped forth from the metal lattice work of the walkway, grabbing at every Doll present the tearing them limb from limb, bludgeoning them brutally against the floor, ripping the hearts from them and crushing them. It was over in mere moments. And then the metal of the walkway had returned to normal, like nothing had happened. I could feel the immense presence of the elemental eyeing Cardin and I, and I prayed it followed our agreement.

Per my agreement, I had free'd the unbearably powerful being on two conditions. It wouldn't hurt any living humans or Faunus here - and it wouldn't go towards Vale when it was done. Just those things. I was aware of how insanely dangerous it was. I knew implicitly that the Yellow Death was a creature of war, that sought nothing more than the death and destruction of others. But as an elemental, there was one thing it hated more.

Grimm. Aberrant creatures that nature never would have intended. And blessedly, there were quite a number of them laying about in the direction of the Grimmlands. _Away_ from anything sentient.

And after a few seconds, to my great relief, the presence left. Swimming from metal surface to metal surface like a great shark, seeking out prey. When it didn't find any in our immediate area, it moved on, vanishing from my senses. I had just about breathed a sigh of relief when another a writhing ball of broken dolls shot forth from the passageway behind us, crashing into a metal container of dust and falling apart.

Miss Goodwitch strode forward, eyeing the Dolls the elemental had slain, and then turning her appraising gaze on Cardin and I.

"Are both of you alright?" She asked gently. And for that moment - and _only_ that moment - she was beautiful. The kind of woman you'd tear apart a city for. And then Cardin nodded in the affirmative, and the taskmaster was back. Exacting and demanding. She strode towards us looking down at me.

"Mister Arc?" she queried and I shook my head.

"Drugged. Broken Leg." I burbled at her, well and truly drained. She turned sharply to look at the offending appendage, then waived her riding crop. I felt myself rising into the air and felt a wave of relief wash over me. Everything was going to be okay.

-ooo-

"This is _not_ okay!" I hissed at Pyrrha as we followed the white fang further and further into the cave system.

"We don't have much choice." She answered, and I scowled at her. She didn't understand how brutish the White Fang were. The fact that they hadn't recognized and murdered me on the spot was in and of itself a small miracle.

We had been following behind the detachment of soldiers for several minutes now, and encountered only minimal resistance. As we traveled we came across heaps of broken mechanical bodies. The automatons Sky Lark had warned us about I'd guess. But something had clearly gotten the them before us. Possibly several somethings. The damage to each group was far from consistent. It was either multiple fighters, or one fighter so powerful they could play around and change how they destroyed each group.

Neither one was a very palatable situation.

As we traveled the White Fang group would pause periodically, trying doors and occasionally finding Faunus prisoners trapped here. Many of them seemed as if they had been homeless, or at the very least treated so poorly while here that it was hard to tell the difference. After a while it became a chore to count how many victims there were, and even I had to concede that whatever was going on here, it had been heinous.

Many people assumed that I did not like Faunus. It was a fair assumption. I certainly made no attempt to befriend them. But that was much more of a concern for my personal safety than it was any dislike of the average Faunus. After all, with the masks they wore, it was impossible to tell exactly who was in the White Fang. And the White Fang, unlock the Faunus in general, were most certainly _my_ enemies. Multiple kidnapping and assassination attempts. Bombs under seats, cars rigged to explode, sniper fire - the number of attacks my family had suffered from the monsters was significant. In a way I could thank them for having my Aura awakened. After all, my father was completely uninterested in seeing me become a Huntress - but Aura was simply too useful a defensive mechanism for someone so constantly at risk.

"They could turn on us at any time!" I whispered, gesturing at the growing mob of Faunus following the soldiers about as they free'd more and more prisoners. Pyrrha glanced at the mob and frowned. No doubt she was thinking me a petty racist, but she had to acknowledge my point. If they _did_ choose to turn on us, we would be overwhelmed.

"We'll split off at the next fork." She said eventually, and a few minutes later we did just that. The soldiers watched us hungrily as we left, and I knew it was only the commands of their leader that stopped them from attacking us. Surprisingly disciplined for an unruly volunteer mob.

We traveled on for a bit after that, occasionally stopping to free more prisoners as we passed them. Pyrrha seemed surprised by that - though I can't fathom why. Whatever else, these people didn't deserve to be locked up here. We didn't stay to watch them however, or allow them to follow us. Each new group we freed we directed towards the exit, and moved on. Eventually we came across a large cavern with crates and crates of dust in it. The containers were labeled Schnee Manufacturing, and I narrowed my eyes at it. The assumption for some time now had been that the White Fang had been the ones stealing all the dust in the local area. It was an assumption I had easily been able to accept. After all - who else would want enough dust to fuel an army, except an actual army?

 **"What have we here?"** A cold voice called from somewhere in the room. Pyrrha and I instantly whirled around, placing our backs to each other and raising our weapons. But there was no enemy in sight.

"Who's there!" I called, not fully expecting an answer.

But then a single red light flickered into existence two meters overhead of us. It was quickly followed by a huge metallic frame that made a mockery of normal human proportions. Arms that were too long, and legs that were too thick. It carried a horse sized mallet over one shoulder that whirled and buzzed, spun by some internal engine.

 **"You may refer to me as Caster."** the voice said, politely - before it's Mace crashed down on us like the wrath of god. We barely had time to move. I couldn't even really see the attack coming - merely pushing away when I had felt Pyrrha tense behind me. Even still, just the shock wave from the impact behind me shaved off a good portion of my Aura, and I knew without doubt that a direct hit from the weapon would kill me instantly.

"Why _do this?_ " Pyrrha called from where she now was across the room from me, having moved much further from the attack than I had. The giant ignored her, reaching one hand out and shoving, sending dozens of containers of dust flying across the room, and revealing me from behind the cover that no longer existed between myself and the monstrosity. It trundled forward, one solid step at a time impacting the ground and shacking the whole cavern.

 **"I, am a man who see's the future."** He declared, and by watching the movements of the body and not the weapon, I was able to see the moment it chose to attack again. This time I was ready, raising a wall of time slowing Glyphs between myself and the weapon before running about the room once more. The attack slowed, but only barely enough for my to be able to actually dodge it. The amount of Aura I had spent to create so many time glyphs was comparable to what I had lost barely dodging in the first place, and I cursed, unsure of what to do.

 **"Not as a seer see's the future. For a seer is lead. Not as a holy man see's the future - for he is lied to. I see the future as a blueprint. A device to be built. Something that man can achieve unaided."** The armored titan punctuated each statement with another movement, another attack. Pyrrha and I could barely keep up, slinging ourselves too and fro while trying to communicate some way we could counter attack the thing. Unlike me, Pyrrha seemed able to somewhat predict the blows, lazy as they seemed to be. As a result, she had managed to fire more than a few rounds from her rifle at the thing - all to no effect.

 **"I admit, I do not savor or relish what I am forced to do. But do it I must. You see, it has been commanded of me to proceed** ** _in the most efficient manner_** **."** The metal man explained pointedly.

My mind raced, trying to reason out the implications of his words. But the overwhelming pressure of the thing was so much that I was having trouble breathing through the steam filling the room let alone thinking about...

Steam?

"Pyrrha!" I cried, realizing that something about the burning mist was eating away at my Aura. She seemed to realize it too, because she glanced down at her hand as though in contemplation. Then, with a sigh, she raised her right hand, which glowed briefly.

"Rider! I command you to defend us!" She yelled at... no one. Was she insane? Rider was nowhere near here. The woman had gone temporarily insane or something the minute that fat man had appeared. Maybe an ex boyfriend or -

My thoughts were cut short as the Red haired woman appeared in the room in a flash of light, her chariot nowhere in sight. She had a petulant frown on her face, and she examined the enemy fighter with a casual disregard that seemed out of place on the human sized red head standing mere feet away from the machine of death that had harrowed us since our arrival.

"I nearly had that bastard Roman too..." She grumbled, then raised her primitive sword and shield.

"Come then." She spat, taking a stance eerily similar to Pyrrha's. "This sword of mine will leave nothing to chance."

The giant hefted his weapon once, swinging a blindingly fast strike at the woman known as Rider that I was sure would flatten her if she didn't move. And yet, instead of dodging, she simply raised her _wooden shield_ and batted the strike away. This was followed by a rapid exchange of blows between the two, with Rider all but disappearing from sight as she attacked and counterattacked against the monster machine.

In the blink of an eye dozens of strikes and counter strikes had been made, and containers of dust and sections of rock wall vanished under the strength of the blows being made. I stared in dumbfounded horror. Despite the size of the thing, Caster was clearly fast. Faster than he had been when fighting Pyrrha and I. Which meant that at that time, he had bee holding back. If he had really wanted to, he could have executed us without our even knowing. But he hadn't. He had warned us of his presence. He had even told us that he was trying to be efficient with us...

He didn't want to fight. He obviously had to, but he didn't _want_ to. He was warning us off. He was -

"Pyrrha! Rider! We need to _run_." I yelled, trying to reach Pyrrha where she was on the other side of the room without being obliterated by the ongoing conflict in the center of the room. A shipping container flew towards me and I quickly created a glyph of ice on the ground so that I could slide beneath it, losing none of my forward momentum. Stopping just a hairs breath away from running over Pyrrha, who had apparently been running towards me just as I had been running towards her.

"Pyrrha we need to go. Even if Rider can stand against him, were going to die just standing _near_ this!" I explained. She considered me for a moment, then tilted her head, her eyes turning hazing. In the corner of my vision, Rider slowed her assault, glancing over at us as though listening to something.

"Are... you talking to her?" I asked incredulously. How was this fair? Servants were insane. They were stupidly powerful, apparently able to be invisible, telepathic and _I wanted one_. Did Jaune have one? Would he help me summon one? The answer to those two questions had better be the same because I wasn't going to tolerate having an arguably _superior_ version of my family semblance being dangled out of my reach.

But that was for later.

"Yes." Pyrrha said simply. Then the move started to move again. It had filled with more and more steam as the battle raged, so when Rider charged forward, it was only by watching the steam swirl and eddy around her that I could tell she had launched the metal giant away and was rushing towards us. When she emerged from the steam, she grabbed each of us around the waist, and sprinted away. The movement was so fast that I actually black out briefly. It was like being strapped to a rocket. What the hell _was_ this woman?

I chanced a look over my shoulder as we entered the tunnel leading away from this place, and saw a baleful red light piercing the steaming veil shrouding us. We couldn't leave yet - Jaune was still here. But we _could_ avoid _that_ thing.

 **-ooo-**

 **So I'd like to point out that, since Remnant isn't earth - no one is really going to be able to use relics to summon servants. I figure that's okay though, since the series also points out that you can summon a servant without a relic, and you just get one best suited to you, depending on your state at that time. This is actually what Tohsaka was attempting when she summoned Archer, not realizing that her pendant would probably always summon EMIYA no matter what she actually did.**

 **Here we have some of the first hostilities between true servants. No overt phantasm useage since most servants are understandably worried about being recognized. It's likely that Saber and Rider recognize each other just because of who they are, but even still - no need to pull your ace in the hole this early in the game.**

 **I realize that Caster (for those of you who recognize him anyway) is generally considered a Neutral alignment character, but his Master is straight up evil so it's not hard to see how he could be forced into a more adversarial role than he probably would choose for himself. Gotta remember that the easiest way to do anything with Magecraft is usually a pretty amoral course of action.**

 **I'm largely pulling from Grand Order for my Servants here, mostly because I don't want to use any OC's or anything like that, but also don't want to just copy Zero or Stay Night's servant choices. I'm considering doing a bit at the end of the next chapter to explain who some of these characters are to people who aren't familiar with that game.**

 **Cardin... well. Cardin is still pretty much a racist shit heel, but you know, it's easy to be casually racist to people who aren't actively suffering. It's kind of an 'over there' problem. You can hate and then not really ever have to see how the people you hate live or are impacted by you. I don't think it really makes Cardin 'evil' that he's like that. Hes a dumb kid copying his dad after all.**

 **Boudica... yeah I'm aware Boudica is a pretty crappy servant in the game. But thats a game designed around forcing you to grind or buy gems to get rare servants. I like to think Boudica would be more useful as an actual servant in the series than she is in the game, where she's basically trash. I'll be taking that tact with alot of my servants in this fic, since I don't really plan to include all that many of the more obviously rare/powerful ones.**

 **Lets see what else... ah right. I feel there may have been a misunderstanding with my last authors note. Im not planning on dropping this for something else. I was just looking for ideas to write for something else when I'm cooling down from writing this fic. It's a hobby after all.**

 **As always,**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	16. Cry Havoc

"Do either of you know whats going on in this place?" Goodwitch asked us after we had traveled for a while. Periodically, she would fiddle with something hanging from her neck, but being dragged along by her semblance as I was, I wasn't really in a position to check, and I doubted she would answer me if I asked.

"No fu-. No. Not at all." Cardin said, barely holding back the curse word in the presence of Miss Goodwitch, who famously did not approve of foul language. Honestly, it was such a strange thing to take into consideration that I nearly burst into laughter right then and there.

I'm sure the blood loss had nothing to do with that.

"I've got nothing." I half admitted. In truth, I understood that Caster was up here preparing to kill me and every other Master in the war. I just didn't really understand why he had gone about it in the way he did. Or who had ordered him to do it.

"Hmm. There's enough dust stored here for a small army. If I had known the scale of this operation before coming I would have obtained back up." Goodwitch said, though it didn't really seem like she was speaking to us so much as dictating her thoughts. I could understand the tendency. I did it all the time. So did Mom actually - although Mom's thoughts tended to lead in one of two directions, slaying Grimm and getting laid. An unfortunate side effect of so many of us sharing space back home was that no matter what, _someone_ was eventually going to have to sleep in a room adjacent to our parents. So not only did we occasionally get treated to Mom's plans for the evening while she cooked, I _personally_ had to _hear_ it on at least one occasion. The only good thing about the entire scenario had been the ease with which I had been able to convince my parents I needed a very expensive pair of noise cancelling ear phones.

Huh. Wonder if those are still at home. Should message Jaz, see if she'd send them to me.

"There kind of _was_ an army here though..." Cardin muttered. He had calmed down quite a bit since Goodwitch's arrival. So had I for that matter. As much as intellectually I knew she would stand no chance against Caster, having one of my teachers, my _combat_ teacher no less, carry me to freedom was... comforting.

But comfort wasn't what moved a Magus. So I took the opportunity to keep working on my circuits. Slowly but surely I pushed my sluggish Prana through my circuits, and with every rotation it took I could feel the poison that had been administered to me fade slightly. It was a slow and painful process, the manipulation of my circuits causing me unbearable pain in the absence of my Aura to soften the damage I was doing to myself as I pushed and pushed. But it had to be done. I needed Archer. There was no one else who could stand against Caster, and I just knew that the armored Servant would be here the minute he had dealt with whatever distraction Goodwitch had made in order to get in past the wards. Actually...

"Ma'am?" I asked curiously, only somewhat focused on our surroundings as I drifted through endless hallways.

"Yes Jaune?" the blonde answered easily, not really looking at me or pausing in her ceaseless search of each room we passed. She was diligent if nothing else, but I suspected that between the Yellow Death and her own blunt entrance, that many of the Dolls that had been in production here were no more. But that still didn't explain how she had gotten past the wards. Wards she couldn't have known about if she wasn't a Magus. Wards she couldn't have survived or subverted without mystical assistance.

"How exactly did you get in here? There were a bunch of... traps... on the entrance." I asked tentatively. Goodwitch paused in her forward motion for a second, before continuing as if I had not spoken.

"I have my ways Mr. Arc." she answered succinctly. Alarm bells started to go off in my head. The switch from 'Jaune' to ' ' was telling. It was a subtle distancing of herself from me. A casual warning to stop asking too many questions and shut up. And more importantly - a confirmation that she knew more than she was letting on.

Suddenly, I had a furious need to use Structural Analysis on her, or barring that, see enough of her skin to search for command seals. Both of those were things I was probably never going to be able to achieve however, because well... she was my teacher.

I wonder if I could get Archer to hang out in her rooms all day.

We walked through a few more hallways like that, with me slowly getting my circuits working, and Goodwitch pointedly ignoring Cardin's running monologue on our surroundings, which largely consisted of saying the obvious whenever we ran into something new. For the most part, 'something new' was just Dolls that had been destroyed but that hadn't been done in by Goodwitch. It was only when we started to come upon open cell doors with nothing inside of them that I began to wonder if maybe the Yellow Death wasn't the only other predator in these halls.

It didn't take long for something to occur and show me what that something was. We rounded a corner and came face to face with a group of Faunus where White Fang gear moving smoothly up from another hallway. Miss Goodwitch dropped me instantly, smoothly sliding me back around the corner and laying me down like I wasn't even there, and I could hear weapons unholstered around the corner from where she had dropped me.

"Who are you?" a masculine voice growled, and I could hear guns being cocked.

" **I** am a teacher of Beacon academy. Two of my students were abducted, and I have come to free them." Our teacher said primly.

"Beacon huh? And you _only_ came for your students?" The male voice said derisively.

"I was unaware anyone else was here." Goodwitch admitted.

"Figures. Same as the other two Beacon bitches that showed up. Not one of you knew or cared about all the faunus here." The man said.

"What's it to you?" Cardin snarled, clearly unable to control his temper in the face of the antagonism. He had a shocking talent for choosing the wrong time and place for his pride to come out, and I instantly knew that letting him speak was going to cause problems. I groped for my circuits, and finding them moving at a moderate pace, reinforced myself. There was nothing I could do for my leg, but if I focused my efforts there, and used some alteration to temporarily hold the bones in place, I should be able to move around - even if that would bite me in the ass later. I hesitated weighing the odds. I hadn't gotten a good look at the faunus, I'd been thrown away too quickly. That meant I didn't know how many of them there were.

"Silence ." Goodwitch demanded, a shark slapping noise ringing out as her riding crop smacked flesh, and Cardin yelped in pain.

"There are no more prisoners in the direction I came from. I would have freed them if I had found any. You said something about two other Beacon staff here?" she questioned when Cardin had shut up. I relaxed slightly when the sounds of gunfire didn't answer the question.

"Staff? Hah. Those two little girls should be so lucky. 'specially the white haired one. The Schnee. They're lucky we aren't here for her." He said blithely and I stiffened. Weiss was here? With someone else? Who would be so insane as to come here for me after I specifically told them how dangerous it was? They weren't stupid. They'd never survive.

No. There was one person. Someone who never seemed to take my warnings to heart.

"And which direction might these students have gone?" Goodwitch asked in annoyance.

"Deeper into the tunnels. You must have just missed them. You say there are no more in there?"

"Certain. If you'll excuse me, I have wounded to evacuate." Goodwitch ground out through obviously clenched teeth. I didn't hear the rest of the conversation, because I had already turned and started using my broken leg to sprint back in to the complex. I had no Aura, but that had never been my greatest asset. I began to ram my will into the block separating me from Archer, all the while sprinting on my broken leg and forcing the sluggish mana through my circuits fast enough to keep me upright. The pain was blinding, but I moved forward. If Cardin could fight through his _terror_ because he was a Huntsmen, then I could fight through the pain to be a Magus. Could, and would.

'..une'

'Ja...'

' _ **Jaune!**_ _'_ Archer bellowed at me, and suddenly he was standing next to me. I could hear Goodwitch in the distance, yelling my name with something approaching panic, but unable to find me as I weaved and turned. There were simply too many branching paths to take in this place for her to find me without Magecraft. So I guess if she did find me that would be something.

'Jaune you bastard, listen to me. Turn around and leave. I know you can't hear me but you _cannot_ fight in this condition. You will die, and so will everyone else. If you never listen to another thing I say, listen to this.' Archer snarled at me. I wondered how long he had been standing next to me, yelling in my ear while I couldn't hear him. I wondered how painful that must have been for him.

"...sorry Archer. Weiss and Pyrrha are here. Can't leave yet." I said hoarsely, making sure to look him in the eye as I spoke, continuing my headlong charge into the base.

'You can hear me now you putrid little fuck?' Archer howled at me, halfway relieved and halfway pissed off.

"Yeah. Look, my head really hurts, and my Aura has only just started to replenish so turn the volume down a bit." I begged him.

'Your _leg_ is _broken_. There's nothing you can do. Jaune, if you don't listen to me I'm going to do something we'll both regret.' Archer said darkly.

"I -" I paused a gout of steam poured out of a tunnel ahead of me filling the tunnel with a furious speed that made it seem more like a rushing tide than a gas. Immediately ahead of the gout of energy was a red haired woman, one almost as tall as me, who was carrying two people under her arms. I recognized those people immediately as Weiss and Pyrrha, but before I could stop to question the woman, or even try to get my friends back from her, she breezed past me. She was far too fast for someone like me to keep up with, and there was a distinct look of strain on her face as she moved. As she passed me, time seemed to slow and I was able to look more closely at Weiss, who had a shocked expression on her face as she turned towards me. Pyrrha made no such move. In fact, Pyrrha seemed like she was barely even alive. She had a drained look in her face, like she hadn't slept in days and could barely focus on where she was.

And then they were gone, having disappeared around a corner ahead of the steam that rushed forward to envelop me. And in that steam, I saw a single, glowing red eye. I could hear more than see the tunnel falling apart around it as it dragged itself through them, its size clearly too much for the small passage to take in.

"Shit!" I cried as the steam immediately started to burn off what little Aura I had managed to recover. Rapidly, I spun and began to run after the red haired woman, but there was no way I was going to be able to catch up to her. No way I was going to be able to escape the giant metal claw that even now was at my back, grasping ahead of the titanic body of Caster.

And then Archer was there. Not next to me. Not coaching me through it. He was just... there. He had for all intents and purposes, _taken me over_. I could feel it happening in slow motion, as the presence I associated with Archer simply waltzed around the corner it stayed in, and directly into my brain. I could feel my circuits fire to life, and felt the molten metal of his Prana slither through me. And then I could feel him using alteration to turn off my pain receptors.

And then finally, with a whimper, I felt him shut me out, shoving me into the corner he usually remained in. Unlike previous possessions, I suddenly no longer had access to my body. Couldn't see, hear or feel. I couldn't _do_ anything.

'Archer...?' I called fearfully into the void, but got no answer.

'Archer? Hey I'm sorry ok!? I'm sorry I dont let you out more, I'm sorry that it... that it scares me, every time.'.

'Just.. just let me out okay? We're a team right? Please?'

'...Archer?'

-ooo-

God damnit. I figured Independant Action would do something like this but it still felt wrong.

I boosted my reaction time, reinforcing myself and launching myself forward. I was never as strong or fast as the other Heroic Spirits I had encountered in life, but reinforcement was one of my two specialties. In the strictest sense, I was probably the weakest servant to ever exist. I didnt really have a legend. I was one of a very small number of modern heroes, whos actions had allowed them to ascend the throne, but never made their names known.

I was fine with that. To me, it was just part of the status quo. If I suddenly found myself easily able to overpower my enemies it would probably be more confusing for me than anything else. You would think a life full of impossible odds would eventually bear some fruit. Show some light at the end of the tunnel. Throw a man a bone, as Jaune were to put it. But it just wasn't to he. The sky was blue, water was wet, and Emiya Shirou lived a thankless life that ended poorly. I didnt have the memories of all those other Emiya Shirou's, not this instance of myself anyway. But the core of my being, that even now resided on the throne, did.

The fog, or steam rather, fell away as I continued forward, doing my best to repair Jaunes leg as I ran. I wouldn't be able to hold this for long. By its very nature, Independant Action drained my personal stores of energy. The little bit of prana that I took from Jaune and held in escroe against moments like this. It would be enough for me to fight, or at the very least run, but sooner or later the blond moron would find himself back in posession of his body, and that was what I was really worried about.

I could feel Jaune, in the back of my mind struggling. It was a weird sensation. Not the usual feeling of something 'over there' that I typically got from my Master. It was more invasive. More cruel. Like I had locked him in a box and thrown the key away.

But it had to be done. This place, this 'Remnant' had made me drop my guard. Made me believe that there was no grail war. Made me think I could coast by, looking out for my charge until he eventually died and I could return to the throne. Preferably from old age. The problem was, everything here was so... soft. Every attack was straightforward. There were very few of the machinations and plots I was accustomed. And as a result of that, I had left Jaune to his own devices, while I did my people watching.

Which was how we got here. Never again. Jaune might have thought I was annoying before - but there were things he had to learn if he was going to survive this war.

I could see the red haired woman from before ahead of us as I ran, quickly closing the gap between us and drawing even with her. I could instantly that she was a Servant, but she was protecting Jaunes friends, so for now, I wouldn't attack her.

That said, she looked haggard, like she was straining to keep going, and I suspected she was low on Prana. It made sense. In all likelihood her Master was a normal person. I had real doubts that Aura made for a good substitute for Prana.

"Give them to me so you can rest." I commanded her, and her head snapped around to gaze at me as we drew even.

"Forgive me, but I must refuse stranger." She said with a hint of iron in her voice.

"Look I'm a friend alright? Weiss tell her." I snapped, annoyed.

"Jaune!?" She cried, staring at me aghast.

"What _happened_ to you? You look like death warmed over. And how are you keeping up with Rider?" She asked.

"I - look its a long story. Just tell her I'm a friend." I said, side stepping the question.

"That's... not... Jaune... it's... Archer..." Pyrrha gasped from Rider's other arm.

"It _looks_ like Jaune..." Weiss said, eyeing me even as I stepped forward to try and take her from the buxom amazon carrying her. She stepped away, blocking me.

Seriously, is there a rule that Rider is always built like a teenage fantasy? That seems like one of those messed up things the Matou's would build into the grail. Shinji would certainly appreciate it.

"No shes right. We share a body. Its complicated." I said, reaching forward again. This was the last time. My priorities right now started and ended with Jaune. If Rider wanted to vanish mod stride and leave them to die, I'd live. And Jaune would learn a valuable lesson about listening to me.

"Ah! The lover! My apologies." Rider said, practically throwing Weiss and then Pyrrha at me. I caught them handily, readjusting my weight so the ad hoc metal pins I'd formed in Jaune's leg wouldn't be damaged by the additional weight.

""Rider!"" Both girls cried at once, squirming slightly in my grip.

"I leave them in your care." Rider said, ignoring them entirely, and then vanishing from sight.

Behind me, I could hear stone splitting as Caster pounded towards us, but I paid it no heed. A few final steps took me the rest of the way up, and out of the cave system, and water poured over all three of us as we made our exit.

To my surprise, Saber stood confidently outside, one arm patiently holding his swords pommel, the blade firmly buried in the dirt. Behind him, Jaune's teacher stood, though she seemed to be struggling against some invisible force. It wasn't as though something was holding her still, more as though she couldn't decide if she _wanted_ to go. Cardin was at her side, sitting cross legged with a dazed look on his face.

I felt a temporary moment of pity for them. Saber clearly had some kind of mind affecting aura or ability. Jaune had been very clear about that when explaining his encounter with the Servant after the fact. And there was no way a normal human could resist something like that coming from a Servant for very long. Even one with an Aura.

Still, seeing us flying out of the waterfall and landing in the river must have triggered something in the blonde, because she broke rank the second she saw me. Or rather, Jaune. She stepped forward, waving her rising crop at us as we fell and shifting us with her semblance so we would land just in front of her.

Weiss and Pyrrha exchanged looks under my arms, before Weiss sighed in defeat.

"We are in _so_ much trouble." She said, trying to avoid Goodwitch's fiery gaze.

"Yes Miss Schnee. I believe that is an accurate assessment." The blond said, clearly fuming. She then turned from Weiss to me, eyeing my broken leg with a mix of confusion and anger in her face. I couldn't really be bothered to address her concerns for Jaune at that moment. I was busy observing Saber. One of the most useful things about Structural Analysis on the level I use it at, is that in a Grail War, I need only _see_ my opponents weapon to recognize them. It didn't come up often because - as far as I could tell from the limited memories I had of such excursions - the only war I had ever participated in was the Fifth Fuyuki Grail War. A war I lived through in my mortal. The result was that I already _knew_ every participant of that war.

Which was why seeing Crocea Mors - the _actual_ Crocea Mors, wielded by Julius Caesar himself, was a little jarring for me.

"Jaune get off that leg _right now_." Goodwitch ordered, and I ignored her. Saber watched with some vague amusement, obviously surprised to see the school teacher shake off his compulsion to begin stomping towards me, Weiss and Pyrrha. Then our eyes met, and he loosed a sigh.

"Bizarre, Strange, Odd. You are not the young man I once met." He noted.

"Jaune!" Goodwitch commanded, and I side stepped a burst of power from her that would have probably lifted me up and dragged me bodily back to the Bullhead she had come on.

"It's a long story." I said, dropping Weiss and Pyrrha. Weiss helped Pyrrha up and they quickly scrambled towards their teacher, clearly confused by what was happening. Saber's eyes flicked to them, and a spark of lust appeared in them much to my disgust.

"They're children." I said without thinking, and then immediately clamped my mouth shut. It was an unnecessary comment. He obviously knew that already, and just didn't care. Bits of information from his blade filtered through to me and I had to bite back a sigh. Julius Caesar, First of the Triumvirate had a history as a womanizer. I guess it's to be expected of someone who claimed to be descended from Venus herself. But it was still aggravating.

"Jaune Arc, I swear if you do not come here _right now_ I will call your mother!" Goodwitch was screeching now. I'm sure if Jaune was here he would be surprised by the sudden display of emotion. He didn't get to see her in her private moments. When she thought she was alone.

"Enough. You may go." Saber said with a roll of his eyes, and the effect was almost instantaneous. Every human present stopped, like puppets with their strings cut, and then like clockwork they all stood and began to march in line, headed off into the forest - presumably towards their Bullhead. Good. If they were gone, it meant that I could do what had to be done. It meant I could -

"Well?" Saber said, breaking my train of thought and causing my eyes to narrow at him.

"Sorry your majesty. But I'm not one of your subjects." I joked, and was satisfied by the jerk of his gaze away from Goodwitch's retreating rump to stare at me instead.

"I was not an Emperor." He said coldly. "And I have no intention of fighting you. I still have need of that boy. Release him at once."

I had to struggle not to let my incredulity show. True my summoning was strange, but did he genuinely think I was remote controlling Jaune for some nefarious purpose? And if he did... could I use that?

"And what will you give me in exchange for him?" I asked. The wall of the cliff near us was shaking now, deep cracks appearing all along its face. Steam was beggining to drift in lazy streamers from the cave entrance, and Saber was splitting his attention between them and me.

"Shock, Dismay, Surprise. The answer to _that_ should be obvious. I won't destroy you." He said, with a dismissive wave of his bronze arm.

"Now go. There is a blight on the empire that I must excise."

I weighed my options, then suppressed a grin and sprinted off. Who was I to argue with such a perfect opportunity to get everything I wanted?

-ooo-

I watched the young man who had been so maliciously used sprint into the tree line. I would have to seek him out and offer my aid when this unpleasant business was done. In my Rome, I would never allow a non combatant such as he to face such overwhelming foes. At least not so poorly equipped. Perhaps I could convince him to enter into Roman's employ after this. Certainly now that he has experienced something of this great war he should have a greater context for my offer of protection. There were a scant few mystics of strong moral standing in this land, and it would sadden me and weaken the empire to lose one such as he.

 **"A waste. You have merely necessitated more death for my great work to continue."** A metallic voice moaned from the tunnels my brave soldiers had entered. If it weren't for that barbarian woman I would have been able to enter with them, and fight this foe on his own terms. As it was I had no way of knowing whether my men had successfully completed their mission or not. It was a pity. The Faunus of this world were clearly noble creatures, willing to fight and die for their kinsmen. A sentiment I would have to foster when I once more held the reigns of government.

With a great roar, an iron monstrosity tore free of the cliff side, sending the waterfalls spray cascading in all directions as though directed by a great hand. It's single red eye locked on me as it pulled itself free, pausing to tug its weapon from the wreckage behind it. Steam billowed from every joint in the machine, quickly flooding the area, and I frowned, mentally judging the chances of survival for my men if they came into contact with the thing unaided.

"Weak, Pathetic, Unfounded. I assure you, your work won't continue. _You_ will not continue." My voice was the cold iron of the general. The commander. There could be no happiness for this thing that had wrought such death and misery on the citizens. It was simply not my way. Not the _Roman_ way. The citizens paid taxes to be protected, to be uplifted, to be _loved_ by their leaders. It was an exchange. An exchange that was not always even, but one none the less.

 **"We shall see."** rumbled the giant, just as the steaming fog rose high enough to block all vision of its steel body. For a moment I existed only in a sea of white, feeling the moist grass lap at my sandled feet. All I could see of my enemy was his glowing red eye. And then that too vanished from sight.

I need not have bothered searching for him, because mere moments after vanishing a massive hammer blow struck out at me from the mists. I quickly raised my arm, blocking the attacking and feeling myself being pushed back by the titanic strength in it. My movements felt labored, and I could feel mana draining out of me and into the surrounding fog the more active I became.

"Cursed mist then is it?" I muttered, using the momentum of the mace in my armor hand to throw myself backwards. That monster couldn't possibly move faster than I, awkwardly shaped as it was. Before I had even finished the thought a blow struck me from behind flinging me back into my original position and across the sodden ground.

"How?!" I cursed, quickly pushing myself up. I anticipated the attack this time, swinging my blade behind me in an upward arc that pushed the mace away from me and opened its wielder to attack. I barreled forward, just barely making out the red glint of its cyclopean eye as I hammered it's knee joint with the Fist of the Legion. The Fist, the bronzed metal arm that was as much a part of my legend as anything else, was a by product of how I came to be remembered. As a man who ruled his nation, and lead his armies with an iron fist. As an inndomitable, titanic man who dragged Rome into the future on my back.

It was a nice thought, knowing I was remembered as such. Not as nice as actually _being_ built like Atlas himself - but flattering none the less.

The enemy Servant was sent sprawling to the ground as the prodigious strength of the fist took its legs out from under it, and I lifted my sword to follow up, ready to hammer it home into his eye. But then there was a rumble from the machine, and eddies of steam swirled to life as some kind of propulsion device on it's back whirred to life. Before my attack could land the monster rocketed out of sight, its huge body and monstrous mace leaving great furrows in the dirt. Once more I had lost sight of my target, and I doubted I could pin him down again. He wouldn't be so predictable this time.

I stared warily into the distance, hoping for some sign of the attack that was to come. This enemy was strange to me. Clearly not a competent or skill fighter. He was fast. Strong. Durable. A near perfect combatant. But he simply didn't seem very good at the actual act of fighting. I was willing to bet that if I faced him on an even field I would win every time merely because of my years of experience.

The whirring of machinery was my only warning when the attack came, ending my musings. The mace came from the front this time, its great inner workings giving off heat and mana as it slammed into my outstretched hand, driving me to my knees and sending pain shooting up my shoulder. Sparks flew from the Fist of the Legion as the maces spinning head ground away at it, mere inches from ending me.

 **"You don't seem as certain as you once were."** The metal man noted, pressing his attack, laying more of his strength and weight into the downward force of the attack. He sounded as though this was hardly any effort at all for him. Unlike myself.

"You... have yet to see... my true power..." I bit out. And then I could sense it. My loyal soldiers, my trained elite. My phalanx. My men.

 _"Cry Havoc, and let slip the dogs of_ _ **war**_ _,"_ I chanted, a barely audible whisper over the grinding noise of the attack even now pressing down on me. The words of power slipped from my and through the Fist of the Legion, and magic pulsed outward from me, releasing my Noble Phantasm.

And then _growls_ ripped through the stalemate.

Many might assume that as a Saber, I might have something of a more directly combative Noble Phantasm. But before I am a fighter, I am a general. And before even that, I am the son of the goddess of love herself. Such is my charisma, my force of will that I was, and ever shall be, the _First_ of the Triumvirate. And so my strength has never laid with my sword arm. But with my men. My soldiers.

 **"What - !?"** Came the surprised cry of outrage from my attacker, as bestial shapes loped from the direction of his former base of operations. Over a dozen Faunus launched themselves through the burning steam at him. Their strength was prodigious, and they worked like a single perfect unit. Each leap, each strike, each claw scrape against iron was made with perfect timing and precision. My power had elevated them. They were not quite servants, but I had bestowed upon them some of the strength and vigor of the berserker class, while keeping them marshaled with the iron command of born soldiers. They were larger now. Their beast traits more pronounced. Their maws extended into muzzles, and fur coating their whole bodies. As one they roared and tore forth.

"To face me in combat, fool, is to face the might of _all of Rome_." I snarled, affronted by the horrors this thing had inflicted on my people. My citizens. A cold smile came over me, as the sweet taste of a well executed route began to come to fruition before me.

"Veni, Vidi, Vici." I intoned, and then rejoined the battle.

-ooo-

'-rcher!'

'Archer please!' Jaune sobbed at me, and I winced as his consciousness began to return and the usual nature of our relationship reasserted itself.

'Hey.' I answered him, not quite sure what to say. I'd never actually heard Jaune _sob_ before. Not when he felt his dreams being crushed under foot. Not when Cardin made his every day a living hell. Not even when his sister had nearly killed him. It made me... uncomfortable.

I was staring out the back of the Bullhead as it flew away, keeping my gaze firmly trained on the spreading field of mist deep in the depths of the Forever Falls. Goodwitch and Jaune's classmates had yet to recover from whatever Saber had done to them, and it seemed unlikely they would until we had finally returned to the school and his orders to 'leave' were completed.

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.' He blubbered at me, until I had finally had enough.

'Stop. It's... I didn't want this.' I said finally after some thought.

'Then why!?' Jaune screamed at me, his weary sadness instantly becoming rage once he had someone or something to blame for what he had been through.

'Jaune. You have been living your life like all of this is a game. You've focused your research on making _weaker_ attacks. You've refused my help at every turn. And you nearly _died_ because you not only didn't listen, but wouldn't let me step in when matters clearly got out of hand.' I said firmly.

'So you trapped me here?! In this... _nothing_? Is this what it's like for you when I can't find you!? Just this empty _void?!_ ' I decried, clearly having trouble coming to terms with what he had experienced.

'No. I didn't know that would happen. I didn't... The Archer class has a skill called Independent Action. Usually it just lets me survive for a day without your mana. I assumed it might behave strangely given our unique situation but...' I trailed off.

'So that's it...? You just... didn't know any better?' He asked bitterly.

'I'm not omniscient.' I shot back.

'Fine. Archer... you.. you can _never_ do this to me again.' He said after a moment. 'Never. Not even if I would die. I can't... I don't even know if I can trust you anymore right now.'

I had to hold back an angry comment while I let him say his piece. Jaune was a sweet kid. An innocent, dumb, kid. A kid with a dream, even if it was one I didn't approve of. He didn't deserve this. Not any of this. Not the fear of knowing you could die at any moment, or the knowledge of the atrocities humans could commit. He was better than that. And to that end, he didn't _have_ to trust me. Or even like me. He just had to not _die_.

'...I need to illustrate something to you.' I said instead of directly answering him.

'Right now?' He asked wearily.

'Yes. Down there, right now, two Servants are fighting. You've never seen it for real have you? A true battle between Servants.' I said, using some of my waning mana supply to draw forth my black bow. Wind rushed past us as I perched precariously on the edge of the open rear door of the Bullhead.

'I've seen you fight Assassin.' He offered. I scoffed.

'Pft. That wasn't a fight. That was a skirmish. Assassin is the weakest servant. And that was _hardly_ the greatest power I can bring to bear.' I said, reaching in to my reality marble, and drawing forth Caladbolg II.

'Servants, no, even _other Magi_ are beyond you Jaune. Your a child playing with a toy he barely understands. In any given field of speicalty, a Servant is orders of magnitude more dangerous than anything you could possibly imagine.' I declared, swiftly knocking the makeshift arrows, and infusing it with every ounce of prana I had left. I had to spare some in order to draw the bow to his full length, the required strength just to pull the string already well beyond what a human could possibly imagine.

'This.' I said, breaking the Phantasm and sending I flying towards the field of steam behind us. The explosion was deafening, ripping apart a sizeable chunk of the falls as though a missile barrage had hammered the area. Trees were flattened, and the force of the blast pushed the steam out of its immediate vicinty, creating a giant empty space in the middle of the white expanse. Seconds later, the force of the blast send a wave of wind and heat rushing towards us, even as far away as we were.

'Is a Servant's power. Don't think you know everything Jaune. Because you don't. I am, first and foremost, an _Archer_.' I declared before stepping back into the Bullhead, and allowing the rear door to close.

Jaune wen't silent after that. And I took that as my que to relinquish control of his body - before he started to freak out again.

All in all, I was happy with what I'd achieved today. I knew who Saber was, and I knew Jaune was probably safe from him. More than that, I'd gotten the chance to take a free shot at both him and Caster. A strike neither of them was probably expecting. I doubted either of them was dead - that would be too easy. But a man could hope.

I glanced at Jaune who had shakily stumbled to one of the seats in the Bullhead, strapped himself in, and passed out.

A man could hope.

 **-ooo-**

 **Once more unto the breach. I got creative with Julius Ceasar here. I'll probably do the same for Boudica. The truth is, their phantasms in the game are half assed B.S that isn't all that interesting in any capacity. Caesars is just 'hit you with his sword a bunch' and Boudicas is 'get a defense buff'. So I'm sorry to any purists reading but I'll be changing some of those things.**

 **So please, let me know what you think of Caesar's phantasm in the reviews, because I'll be taking most of that advice into consideration as I move forward with how other servants work and play out.**

 **To answer a question I've gotten PM'd about a few times now - I don't intend to make this a Harem. I don't hate the genre as such, but it just doesn't fit this story. I don't mind some romantic conflict, but I that is a far cry from a harem.**

 **Not much else from me today, just a quick chapter before work. And as always.**

 **Thanks for Reading.**


	17. Tempering

My eyes snapped open to the sight of a slowly spinning ceiling fan. I immediately took stock of my surroundings, unconsciously seeking the Doll that even now must be standing guard over me. The Doll that would readily lurch forward and slam me back into my bed if it saw me move. I froze, waiting for the opportunity to fight back, to respond to the movement.

I had to take this seriously. I had to be ruthless. I had to respond with lethal force because my enemies would respond likewise. I had to. The hazy memory of being told that was still at the forefront of my thoughts. The dim knowledge that I had disappointed my family _again_ fueled my frantic beating of my heart.

A flash of red in the corner of my vision alerted me to the movement before anything else. The Doll, responding just as I expected. I didn't give it time to to push me down, instead, I surged up from my bed, pushing the thing off balance and snaking my arms out to grab hold of its forearms.

I remained locked into position, holding its dagger and syringe away from myself for several seconds until I realized something was very, very wrong. The Doll wasn't fighting back. It was barely moving. Neither were the other Dolls in the room. Several of them all staring in shock at me like I was the monster. Like I was -

"Jaune?" A soft voice called out, drawing my attention back to the Doll who's forearms I was doing my best to crush in my grip. Only it wasn't a Doll at all. It was Pyrrha, looking at me with a mix of apprehension and sadness on her face.

"Pyrrha?" I said, shocked out of my own delusions and in to really seeing my surroundings for the first time. All of RWBY and JNPR were present in the tiny room. My single bed and small host of hospital equipment to my right took up about half the room, and told me more about where I actually was than anything else.

I looked about the room in confusion, not daring to move. I could hear my own breathing now, and feel the sweat slick against my skin. I was taking fast wild breaths, like an animal that had been run down and was now cornered. With great care I relaxed my hands from around Pyrrha's wrists, fully aware that I had only caught her in the first place because she didn't want to hurt me. The events of the last few days came back to me, and I cringed inwardly at how unnecessary it all was. I didn't have to get caught, but I was careless. Pyrrha and Weiss didn't have to come to save me. But I was careless. Even Miss Goodwitch was in danger because of me.

Seeing my look of dumb shock Pyrrha stretched forward once more, enveloping me in a warm hug that felt like the most human warmth I had felt in ages. The only human warmth really. When was the last time someone hugged me? Was it that night Bianca had caught me sneaking back home? The night I summoned Archer?

"You're ok Jaune. I brought you back." She hummed to me soothingly.

"Ehem." Came Weiss' voice from behind her, and I could feel Pyrrha tense slightly before relaxing again.

"... _Weiss_ and I brought you back." She corrected begrudgingly. I couldn't really think of any response to that, so I just wrapped my arms around Pyrrha's waist and allowed myself to feel the warmth and safety she exuded. Allowed myself to believe that everything was fine, and was going to continue to be fine. And then I remembered that I was a Magus, and a Master, and pretty much the most unlucky guy to ever exist. And I knew that things weren't going to be alright unless I forced them to be. Archer was... I wouldn't call him right persay. I took issue with his scolding, and I certainly felt a degree of shame for failing his expectations. But I stood by my actions to this point. I was not, and would not, apply lethal force to every problem I encountered. I wasn't going to just live my life like a hermit in a defended bunker, doing nothing but preparing myself to fight servants. I wasn't going to put my whole existence on hold because Archer thought I wasn't 'taking this seriously'.

But I could take the advice to heart regardless, I do like I always did. I already knew I was going to have to work twice as hard as anyone else in order to progress. That was a given. I was learning to be a Magus and Huntsmen at the same time. Now I guess I would just have to work harder. Finally finding equilibrium, and organizing my thoughts, I released my arms from around Pyrrha, who reluctantly did the same and stepped back to let me look at the rest of the rooms occupants once more.

"Thanks guys. For everything." I thanked them quietly. My throat was sore, and it hurt to talk. But I refused to hold off on thanking my friends, no matter what else happened to me.

"Think nothing of it. That _is_ what friends do after all." Weiss crowed imperiously. Her face was pointed away from me, and she appeared to be looking at me out of the corner of one eye as she spoke. A slight reddish tinge was in her cheeks, like she had just been out in the cold.

"Surprisingly cute." I said, my mouth running before my brain had the time to process and filter the words. Weiss froze and the room took on a sudden stillness. It took me several seconds to realize that I had actually spoken, and several more to recognize the mistake I had made. Most of the room seemed to be watching Weiss for her reaction, except for Pyrrha who was squinting at me like I had just said something particularly slanderous.

" _Surprisingly_ cute?" Weiss repeated in an offended tone, turning - if it was at all possible - even further away from me than she already had. Her face was turning a bright, angry red and I felt myself instinctively reach for my circuits to reinforce myself against the abuse that would inevitably be coming my way. The sharp sting that shot through my body was immediately obvious to everyone watching if their faces were anything to go by. The mood in the room instantly shifted from amused to concerned, and about half the room bumped in to each other as they all stood to try and look at me at the same time.

'I wouldn't advise using your circuits for a little while.' Archer said coldly, almost analytically, like he was describing the weather and nothing more.

'You were continuously running your circuits for over a day while bleeding out. They need rest or you'll burn them out.' He continued, appearing in a far corner of the room.

'Arch- why- fine.' I finally said. I wanted to have a conversation with my Servant about his actions, about the black void he had dropped me in like a forgotten pet, and about his sudden descent into cold hearted jackassery. But that would have to wait.

"I'm fine I'm fine." I groaned, waving my friends off.

"You don't _appear_ fine." Ren pointed out, unconvinced.

"It's nothing. I'll live." I ground out through gritted teeth. Since I had only barely started my circuits and then immediately left them alone afterwards, the pain had already started to fade by the time they had made it to me. Still I must have looked like shit because afterwards _Nora_ stepped up to bat.

"Just relax a while alright? Classes are cancelled for a few days." She said. Her words were gentle, but the iron claw of a hand she grasped my skull with was not. Neither was the unrelenting force with which she slowly levered me back into a relaxed position laying on the bed.

"So... what happened?" Ruby asked shyly, obviously curious but not sure if it was okay to ask. I wasn't really sure how to answer the question either. On the one hand, a literal explanation could be brushed off as a psycho mad scientist running wild, but on the other, _alot_ of what had happened to me was related to Magecraft and the Grail War. I hadn't known Ruby for long but I knew if I told her about the war she'd jump headlong into it - even if that would almost certainly get her killed. Hunters were like that. Overconfident. The idea of a force so powerful they couldn't stand against it _at all_ was alien to them. After all, fighting the monsters was a Hunters job in the first place.

"I -" I started, but was startled as the door to the room I was in swung open, and Ozpin himself stepped into the room with his coffee mug calmly steaming in one hand. He had his same bland facial expression on when he entered, but his words stopped me in my tracks.

"I believe it's best that news of what has happened remain private for now. It would cause something of a panic among the populace if it were to get out. I will confer with Jaune and Cardin, and then tell you all what has transpired afterwards - but it would not do to disseminate incomplete information." He chided, his eyes locked on my the entire time. Archer, who until then had remained quietly watching the proceedings from his corner of the room had shifted imperceptibly towards me and was watching the aged Headmaster like a hawk.

"Now if you will excuse us ladies, I need to speak to Jaune in private." He added with a patient sip from his coffee mug. Then he blinked and cocked his head at Ren, acknowledging his mistake in address without ever saying anything or admitting wrongdoing.

'Careful.' Archer spat shocking me.

'What? Why?' I asked in confusion. Everything Ozpin had said made perfect sense to me.

'He's going to get the full story from you then give everyone else an edited version. Otherwise he would just let them stay.' Archer explained, and despite our recent falling out I believed him.

'Is that... bad?' I queried, not really sure what to think at the moment.

'Depends.' Archer answered pensively, as everyone else filed out of the room. They didn't look pleased, but they also weren't refusing to leave. Ren caught my eye as he left and I nodded imperceptibly at him as he exited the room. Ozpin might want to control the flow of information, but JNPR had already decided to stick by me in the long haul. If there was anyone I wasn't going to hold out on it was them.

'On what?' I asked in spite of myself. Archer took the time to glance at me before standing and walking through Ozpin to stand behind the older man, who was even now stepping forward to take Pyrrha's seat at my bedside. The results were pretty immediate. The grey haired man stuttered mid step, nearly spilling his coffee before correcting his balance and shooting a suspicious look about the room.

'On whether he's a good Magus or not.' Archer answered me finally, and the meaning of his words dawned on me. Archer hadn't specified whether or not Ozpin was a Magus. He had only questioned how _good_ Ozpin was as a Magus. A Magus in a school where I knew there was a Master secretly trying to kill me. A Magus who now had me alone in a room, while I couldn't use my circuits. My eyes narrowed and I got halfway through the motion of trying to leap to the ground on the opposite side of the bed for cover when Ozpin spoke, a tinge of amusement in his voice.

"Peace Jaune. I've no idea why you're so jumpy. I mean you no harm." He stated blandly, taking a sip of coffee. I paused to consider my response for a second before slowly settling back in my seat.

'Tell me you can jump in if this gets dangerous.' I pleaded to Archer, keeping my face entirely neutral.

'It'll hurt like hell.' He answered me, now scrutinizing Ozpin more closely. I felt a growl develop in the back of my throat that I had to hurriedly quash. I wanted very badly to cast Structural Analysis - if only to try and search the man for weapons or Mystic Codes. But if he _was_ a Magus, I doubted he would take kindly to the sudden activation of my circuits. And if he wasn't here to fight then I didn't want to set him off.

"Sorry sir. I just... had a rough couple days." I finally said, apologizing to Ozpin.

"I suppose you have at that." Ozpin said not unpleasantly. Then he stretched a hand out and drew a rune in the air. He literally just flicked a finger through the air, leaving little glowing lines behind wherever it passed. The action of drawing the single rune and activating was so fast I barely had time to determine whether or not it was an attack, and by the time I had judged it safe it was done. My ears popped, and then... nothing.

"Berkano. For silence. This is a private conversation after all." Ozpin said, shooting me what he probably thought was a pleasant old man smile but that instead just scared the shit out of me.

"Now then. I fear I must ask the most important question first and foremost. Who taught you?" The tone of voice the Headmaster used left no room for misinterpretation. He wasn't asking where I learned to read and write. He wasn't asking where I learned to fight. He wanted to know about my Magecraft.

"Why does it matter?" I asked warily, and Archer nodded in approval at the deflection.

"Because there are really only two, possibly three, people on Remnant with a working knowledge of the craft. Or rather, enough to teach it." He answered evenly.

"I still don't see why it matters." I quipped honestly. It was a mistake to be so flippant about it. His facial expression didn't change but his grip on the coffee mug became so strong I thought I saw a hairline fracture shoot up its surface.

"Because I am one of them. And the other is a _monster_ who's students I can't - and won't - tolerate in Vale."

'And there's the threat. Honestly I don't know why I ever thought this place was different.' Archer mused bitterly. I didn't fully understand the statement and couldn't quite bring myself to ask for him to elaborate at the moment, so I filed it away for later.

"No one taught me. Or... no one alive." I finally said. Technically it wasn't a lie. Archer was long since dead. Instantly the oppressive feeling emanating from Ozpin diminished to a less obvious level, and I had to wonder what he would have done if I had tried to brush him off again.

"I had assumed your mother taught you when you first arrived. It's why I was unconcerned with your presence at first. But recent events have forced me to be somewhat more cautious." Ozpin admitted.

"So you're self taught? How very praiseworthy. You're use of dust is remarkably similar to your mothers at your age." Ozpin continued before pausing. He must have seen the look of absolutely shock in my face. The blatant confusion and dismay must have been pretty off putting to him since the part of his statement that was throwing me off was probably just a point of fact to him.

My mom. Was a Magus. My _mother_ , who had championed the cause of never letting me out of her sight. My _mother_ , who insisted I would never be a Hunter under any circumstances. Suddenly I was forced to re-examine my understanding of my entire family. There was no way my Mom could do something my Dad didn't know about. The two were basically glued together at the hip. I was willing to bet most of my sisters knew too. Hell, my grandfathers book - the one I had been _so sure_ no one but I could have figured out, that was probably just common knowledge to them. Light reading they had all done growing up to prepare them for... for what? Magus...dom? Magus...ness?

My thoughts spiraled into a loop, while I tried to pick out every strange memory and coincidence from my childhood. Tried to spot the lie. But I didn't have time to do that just now. Ozpin was right infront of me, patiently waiting for me to work through my shit and continue our conversation.

"Okay. Okay. So. My Moms a Magus." I said after a moment, causing Ozpin to blink in surprise.

"One of very few I didn't teach, yes." He said eventually.

"I... okay. Just. Fine. What do you want then." I finally groaned, aware now more than ever that if I my family found me I would be going back to the Arc family home in a cage with a curse on me never to leave it.

"If you could describe the events of your abduction." Ozpin prodded.

'Do we tell him about the war?' I asked Archer privately.

'No. If he knows already he'll hide it, and if he doesn't telling him gives us nothing. It just alerts him to your presence in the war.' Archer reasoned.

'But won't he find out eventually anyway?' I asked, getting a headache. I wasn't used to duplicity. Not in any great capacity. The most I could ever bring myself to manage was some half truths and half hearted, white lies. I was many things, but a competent spy was not among them.

'Even if he does, being a Magus doesn't automatically make you a Master. He doesn't appear to have any Command Seals either, so he's probably not a participant himself.'

"Well..." I began, before quickly going over my brief memories of my time in the caverns beneath the Forever Falls. My accounting was heavily edited of course. I would never freely admit to another Magus that I had essentially freed the Yellow Death without any real protections except a promise and a prayer. Even if it wasn't embarrassing from a professional standpoint, it was hilarious dangerous and therefore, probably not something the leader of the cities defenders would be happy to hear. Instead, I described Yellow Death as a very old Mystic Code that could only be used once, for emergencies. Despite the vagueness of the statement, it seemed to satisfy Ozpin, who had been curious to know how we had survived until Goodwitch had come for us. It took Archer to explain why that was.

'Magi are extremely secretive about how their mysteries work. From his point of view, you trust him enough to tell him about your last ditch life saving emergency code being gone. You trust him enough to tell him that right now, you're _completely vulnerable.'_ Archer explained, and I blanched, glancing around the room as though waiting for a part of it to explode.

"Fascinating." Ozpin opined, apparently finding my reactions funny. He took another sip of coffee then frowned, lowering the mug and eyeing it as though it had offended him with its emptiness

"W-what's that sir?" I quavered.

"You react to your mistakes - ah I'm sorry, what _would_ be a mistake if I were you're enemy - as though _someone is explaining them to you._ " He pointed out.

'Dammit Jaune.' Archer growled, his hands flexing futilely. A few tense moments passed where I didn't know how to respond, and Ozpin didn't seem interested in saying anything else. But then he took another accusatory look at his empty coffee mug, and set it down on the bed side table before speaking.

"The rest of the story then, ?" he prompted, and I jumped on the excuse to move past his subtle suggestion that I might be communicating with someone else.

I quickly completed my story. It was a bit hard, but I had Archer coach me on what to say about the parts when he was in control. Ozpin listened on pensively, until I finally made it to the end of the story. He made no more attempts to interrupt me, or ask questions. He just listened until I was done. And when I _was_ done he nodded at me, and then rose from his seat.

"Well Jaune, as much as I would like to tell you not to tell your story to the rest of your team, something tells me that would be a lost cause. So instead I will simply leave you with a warning. Anyone you choose to involve in the affairs of Magi could become victim to the affairs of Magi. Think on that. And tell your mother I said hello." He said it all in the same bland tone as always, but something about his demeanor made me think he was distracted. Thinking about something that bothered him. Well, bothered him more than a murderer making machines out of dead people in the woods at least. I watched him leave the room with my hands tightly clenched beneath the covers of my bed and only relaxed when he finally closed the door, and Archer said he was gone.

"Okay. What the hell was that." I asked the empty room, and Archer quickly appeared in the seat Ozpin had vacated.

"I think he knows about the war. He probably thinks you're involved, but he can't be sure. Between when you blacked out and now he definitely would have had time to check you for command seals." Archer said, gesturing to the clothes I was wearing. Belatedly I realized I wasn't in my usual jeans and hoodie combo. I was in a set of generic sweat pants and a t-shirt, neither of which belonged to me. Someone had definitely stripped me on my return, probably looking for wounds.

"Is he going to be a problem?" I asked wearily. Honestly, I'd have really preferred not to deal with my Headmaster potentially wanting to kill me. But Archer surprised me when he shook his head in the negative.

"I don't think so. If I had to guess, he's just acting as a moderator. Not actively a part of the war, but with a vested interest in making sure it doesn't spill in to the streets. Could be because hes a genuinely good person..." Archer explained, trailing off and giving me an expectant look.

"Or it could be because he has ulterior motives. God dammit." I whined. Then I noticed Archer was still looking at me. Like he was expecting something. Like there was something he was waiting for me to say or do.

"What?" I asked petulantly.

"Aren't you mad at me?" He asked dryly.

"Obviously." I snapped at him. "But I'm also in the middle of a seven way death match with a bunch of people I don't know. Stop treating me like I'm an idiot."

"And yet you still aren't asking the smart questions." he pointed out, and I suddenly had the urge to try and throttle him. Archer had a habit of burying his temper by reverting to old habits. Even now, I could tell something was bothering him, but that he had decided now wasn't the time. Hence the insults. Unfortunately for him, I was a pretty straight forward guy.

"Look, Archer, I realize you had a hard life. I understand that you'd prefer if I turned into some kind of monster of logic that completely shut down every aspect of my existence that doesn't affect the war." I exclaimed, not feeling as angry about this conversation as I probably should.

"I didn't say -" He started, anger showing on his face.

"Yes. You did. You got mad because I wanted to go back for my friends, and then you over reacted because you thought I was being stupid." I said rolling my eyes.

"You have no idea how the world works Jaune. Those people? They won't be there for you at the end. I don't care if you love your friends or not. I don't even care if you wanna go die for them. All I care about, is making sure you understand that you _need_ to be able to survive without them." He said with solemnity.

"That's bullshit and you know it." I yelled back at him, now frustrated and genuinely starting to feel angry.

"No Jaune, that's _life._ " He retorted coolly.

" _Your_ life Archer. That was _your_ life. Only one of us has had the dubious honor of dying alone." I shot back. Rather than getting mad and firing back at me like I thought he would, he paused and gave me a queer look.

"How -"

"The dreams jackass. I realize you don't have to sleep so they're easy to forget about, but every time you possess me reality gets weird. Every night another dream about another fight. Do you know what the first thing I thought when Nora woke me up after the Assassin thing? It was 'Crap Taiga is here early'." I said, pausing so he could fully appreciate my point. The red clothed servant seemed temporarily flabbergasted by the notion. Not that I was dreaming about his history - he seemed to have known that was a thing as far back as Ansel. No, what had him sore was that parts of his mind were literally bleeding into me. It wasn't anything overt, and I knew that at the end of the day I was still Jaune. But there were these flashes, these moments of bizarre instinct, where thoughts that were clearly not my own would flit through my head. And that, I was fairly certain, was _not_ normal.

"That... doesn't change anything." He said eventually, although he said it with much less conviction than normal.

"It _does_. Archer I'm not stupid. I get it. You lived a rough life, and you don't want me to live a similar one. But come on, focusing only on 'the mission' is _exactly_ what you did." I said, calming down when it became clearly he might actually be listening to me.

"...Jaune, do you know what confuses me the most about this place?" Archer said finally, carefully not acknowledging my point.

"Obviously not." I said, somewhat annoyed.

"It's how bipolar it is here. There's really no sliding scale. Not all that much morally grey. This, all of this, is humanity on its last legs, and they know it. There's a level of peace and cooperation here that I wouldn't have thought possible where I'm from. And when I close my eyes and stop thinking too hard about it, that feeling of peace draws me in. Makes me dull. Makes me feel like I don't need to try as hard." He said, waving his arms about like he was trying to illustrate his point to me.

"What's wrong with that?" I asked carefully. It sounded pretty good to me. The guy was... pretty high strung.

"The _point_ , is that it's a god damn lie. All the evil I fought in my time is still there, it's just doubled down and gone underground. One minute everything is okay, and the next, it's just _not_. I've already been with you long enough that _several_ grail wars could have been fought and ended by now. They usually take weeks Jaune, not months or years. Do you realize how insanely lucky you are that you've only really been attacked twice in all this time?" He said, and I realized that this was probably the most I'd ever really spoken with Archer. He was just so... immediately familiar. We spoke now and then, but for the most part we got along well enough that I could ask him a whole question just by saying his name - and he would know exactly what answer I was looking for. It was good, but it also wasn't. The dreams told me a bit about him, and being around him for over a month certainly helped. But really, what did I honestly know about him? I had just sort of subconsciously sorted Archer into the role of older brother and promptly chosen not to think about him when I didn't need him. And that was... wrong.

"I mean... after the war, don't you think it'd be _good_ for you to be somewhere you can relax?" I said, and I immediately regret the concerned tone I had used to speak to the Servant. Archer was many things, but someone who enjoyed being pitied was not one of them.

"Jaune, I'm not going to _be_ here after the war. I have to die just for it to finish." He said.

"...Are you sure? I mean... it's a super wish machine or whatever. Can't I just wish the grimm away and also, I dunno, keep my Servant pretty please?" I offered dumbly.

"No." he said. And the words came out with the crushing weight of a guillotine slamming down and killing any and all conversation. I tried to open my mouth to argue with him, but instead of suffering me anymore he vanished with an aggravated look on his face. I could have continued to pester him over our link, but if he didn't want to answer, he wouldn't.

Besides, I figured I had made my point fairly enough. He'd come find me when he had cooled off. In the mean time I had some things to study. Some projects to start. Aura, and Spiritual Bodies. I had caught a glimmer of it in my drug addled state. A deeper consideration for the mechanics of the energy of the soul that protected all Hunters, and that coursed through all living things. At their core, Servant's were pretty much _just_ souls. Did that mean you could solidify your aura into an object? A person? Could you force it to stick around after your death, or did it need a biological system to anchor itself to?

And most importantly, could I use it to build Archer a body.

-ooo-

There were very few thing's remaining in the world capable of causing me to feel strong emotions. To refer to myself as 'dead inside' would be erroneous. It would also imply I had psychopathic tendencies. And nothing could be further from the truth. I was a man who had simply experienced _too much_. Too much joy, too much pain, too much loss, too much _sorrow._ As such, it tended to take something quite extreme in order to make me feel anything more than a twinge of feeling.

So it was to my great surprise that, after getting the testimony of everyone involved, I finally had confirmation that there was indeed, a ritual being performed in Vale. Not just any ritual, a _specific ritual._ The _Heavens Feel_ ritual in particular.

I had no interest in the grail. It couldn't grant me the wish I wanted fulfilled most desperately. No, my only interest was in making use of the situation, and keeping the grail out of the hands of someone like _her_ who most certainly _could_ use the grail to grant her final wish. A situation that I, as Headmaster of Beacon Academy, simply could not tolerate.

I walked sedately through the halls until I made it to the secluded elevator that would take me to my intended destination. For anyone else it was merely a lift to and from my office. For me, it would go down. Down to the very _bowels_ of the school. In those bleak depths, was a single tunnel walkway, lined with lights and technology that led to a cryogenic chamber. And in that chamber - lay Amber. She was a plain looking girl, with dark skin and hazel colored hair that fell down to her chin and framed her face, and the _scar_ on it that had been left by her attackers.

I tinge of anger and then nothing more.

I placed a hand carefully on the glass of the chamber, feeling the cold seep into my fingers. I was very, very old. Amber, sweet girl I'm told she was, had next to no relation to me. However, in a sick way that couldn't be further from the truth. The maidens, Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter - they had a power, an innate type of magic that originated each with one of my daughters, millennia ago. Amber might not have been biologically related to me, but that power had been passed down, from person to person, until it had reached her. And so in a way, was Amber not merely a new incarnation of my daughter?

I shook my head lest I become lost in thought, thoughts of my children, and my wife. Thoughts that constantly niggled in the back of my mind asking me to betray my life long mission. That wasn't what I had come here to do. No, I had come here to kill two birds with one stone. Amber, for all my paternal love, was lost to me. Injured in a way that we couldn't quite heal. Injured in a way that left... holes, for lack of a better word, in her spirit. I could seek another to bear the mantle of the Fall Maiden. I had originally been planning on it. But the grail war provided me with a somewhat different opportunity.

I stepped back from the chamber, and withdrew a knife from my pocket, cutting a rent in my finger that would bleed well enough to draw with. Then I began inscribing the runes and sigils I would need on the chamber. As it was, I had two concerns. I was concerned for Amber's - no, the Fall Maidens, safety - and I was concerned that someone untoward would win the grail. In this, I was going to resolve both issues.

I began to chant as I worked, expanding the circle of sigils until they all but covered the entire surface area of the machine, each symbol glowing with an eerie light, and each new sigil raising the brightness of that light. More and more, until the cavern was all but completely illuminated by my handiwork.

"Come forth!" I yelled finishing my incantation. I had abbreviated it. I was a centuries old wizard, and though I was much weakened, I had more than enough mystical clout to force some parts of the spell... and change others.

Like a boiling kettle, the metal of the cryogenic chamber began to heat up. At first slowly, and then with great speed, turning from red to a nearly white hot in the blink of an eye. Water streamed out the sides of the machine, which began to warp and pop as the sudden rapid change in temperature weakened and fractured the metal holding it together.

And then, finally, Amber opened her eyes, and with a single swift jerk of her leg, launched the door of the chamber off of itself. She sat up, blinking in confusion before looking down at her naked body, that was even now exuding a heat that was almost as great as the sun itself. Then she turned her face to me, and instead of the mellow brown that I would have once expected, slitted yellow eyes peered at me. She jumped from her prison, landing stoically in front of me, stark naked and without an ounce of shame. She eyed me over once, twice, and then glanced down at the red command seals marring her hand in the shape of a stylized flame.

"Ozpin." She said in a relaxed tone, before waving an arm lazily through the air and materializing a black and gold garment of silk that hung from her forearms. A fan appeared in her free hand, which she opened and began to wave at herself, as if to say that the monstrous heat propagating throughout the room was only a minor inconvenience.

"Amber." I greeted her casually. She would do me no harm. The being before me could be said to both be Amber - and not. What I had sought to do, was use the spirit of a Servant to fill the 'holes' in Ambers soul. To glue it all back together with something stronger than a normal human body could ever hope to produce. And so what stood before me could more accurately be considered half of Amber... and half of someone else entirely. Who, I had no idea. Many of the Servants in the last war claimed to be legendary heroes of some stripe, but I had no knowledge of any of them - and I had been around for quite a long time. I had once toyed with the idea of ascending to this 'Throne of Heroes' to escape my eternal cycle, but long ago gave up on the concept. To dangerous to play about with my own soul like that.

"Where is my beloved?" Amber said sweetly, causing me to blink in confusion.

"Ah... who might your... beloved be?" I tried, a sinking feeling in my gut.

Ambers eyes widened, and the black slits that were her pupils narrowed. Her nostrils flared, releasing a curl of smoke, and her hair - for just the briefest of moments - took on a turquoise color. The heat in the room skyrocketed such that I considered using some minor Magecraft to stop my clothes from igniting, but thought better of any sudden moves in front of whoever this was.

"My. _Beloved."_ She said with a soft hiss, furrowing her brow as if trying to dredge up a long forgotten memory. Then the temperature in the room suddenly dropped, reverting to what it was as I had entered, which as a result of the heat from before, felt as cold as an arctic tundra.

"My _Qrow_." She said happily. I gulped. Then spoke a silent prayer for my old friend.

 _Across the city, in a run down bar that no one with any self respect could ever bring themselves to drink in, a man with a handsome five o'clock shadow, and spiky black hair stirred from his alcohol induced stupor. He jerk upward, glanced about the room, checked his wallet, his weapon, and his scroll, and then slumped back in to his seat. This was a check he was well accustomed to doing. After all, his Semblance, if nothing else, produced an astounding amount of_ _ **bad luck.**_

 _ **-ooo-**_

 _ **So some of you might notice that Jaune's thoughts on the nature of Aura and how he can use it to help Archer stray dangerously close to essentially just being the Third True Magic. I'm aware of that I promise - It's not like he's going to wake up tomorrow and have this stuff down pat.**_

 _ **Bonus points to anyone who can make the obvious guess as to who the new Servant is.**_

 _ **This story may or may not slow down for a little while, I'm up for promotion and have to focus at work for a bit. But I can guarantee at least one mid length chapter a week. That much I can still manage, if not that absurd posting speed I had for alot of december. This one is a little rough editing wise, but I wanted to get it out there before I had to get to work and promptly not look at for a while. I hope you all can forgive me for that.**_

 _ **Oh and as always,**_

 _ **Thanks for reading.**_


	18. Forged in Flames

I spent the rest of my day organizing my thoughts. Technically I could have gone to class that very same day. I wasn't hurt all that much, and my Aura had recovered enough to mostly negate the effects of the drugs, but Archer's adhoc metal leg brace took some explaining.

Mostly because it magically appeared under my skin like someone had surgically implanted it there during my two days of captivity.

It took a while to explain that I had made the brace with my Semblance, and that it would go away in a day or so. It would have been the work of a few seconds to have Archer dismiss it, but there was no way I was going to do that while a nurse hovered over me.

So I sat. And I waited. And I planned. It was time to be proactive. I knew of at least three servants, and had at least some sway over Saber if Archer was to be believed. I could use that, maybe team up with him to handle Caster. I also knew Assassin's Master was somewhere in the school and was aware of me. So with all that in mind...

I needed to deal with Assassin. Beacon wasn't just my base of operations, it was where I _slept._ It was a miracle I had gone this long with being murdered in my sleep. More than just that, the Beacon cliff that overlooked the city was the perfect sniping position for Archer, which meant absolute nothing since using it as such would present a perfect opportunity for Assassin to 'deal' with me.

And that begged the question, how did I deal with Assassin? I couldn't blow up the school for a whole host of reasons, I had no idea how to find the servant or the Master...

Or did I? If I thought about it in a certain way the grounds were practically littered with enemy magecraft. Wards that would signal my presence the second they detected Prana. Heck, they were basically just giant doorbells.

Slowly a plan began to come together in my head. But first...

'Archer, what are the chances of us taking out Assassin if we can force him to fight us?'

'Decent. There's more than one of them but they're weak.' Archer answered succinctly.

It'd have to do.

They discharged me that morning, after my leg had healed and I found myself trudging through the halls an hour before class was to start. I missed JNPR. I missed my team. I missed carefree nights of experimenting with my magecraft while everyone else slept, knowing that they would all be there in the morning to berate me for not sleeping. But that didn't stop me from enacting part of my plan as I approached our room.

With Archer's help, I sought out each and every ward I could along the way to my room. This was a gamble. If the enemy Magus was a student, they probably wouldn't retaliate during the day, or out in the open at all. I could act with impunity. But if it was a teacher, or even Ozpin himself, then there ways they could approach me without raising suspicion. Fortunately, I highly doubted Ozpin was the enemy Master - he'd had the perfect opportunity to make me disappear when I was stuck in bed, and hadn't taken it.

Each ward that I crossed, Archer coached me on destroying. I didn't want to risk taxing my circuits just yet, so destroying them was all I did. Well, I say 'destroy', but really it was more like unravel. If I focused, I could find the flaws in each bounded field and sort of just... pick at it. After that the whole thing would pretty much fall apart.

'A useful talent.' Archer noted, and I grinned and wiggled my eyebrows at him.

'What can I say, I've got magic fingers.' I chortled and Archer shot me a look filled with distaste. There was a certain distance between us now. Like he was consciously waiting for the other shoe to drop. I had no idea what form the other shoe would take but it was kind of awkward.

By the time we made it to the dorm room we had taken apart eight wards over forty minutes. That gave me fifteen to clean up and change, then five to get to class.

Business as usual really. But then something strange happened. Just as I was reaching out to pull the door to the room open, Archer whispered into my ear.

'There's a servant in there.' he noted, and his eyes had gone cold. A dull steely glint had replaced the usual apathy that lay there. I had come to recognize that look of Archer's not as determination, and cold rage - but of acceptance. Acceptance from the man who's life was one long list of blunders ending in pain or death. I immediately stopped thinking. My circuits blazed to life, and I all but grabbed Archer by the back of the neck and dragged him into me as I yanked the door open and dove inside.

Which was why I hurtled forward into what I assumed Archer would take over and make a front roll, but instead became simply a face plant. When I landed, I found Nora and Ren happily sitting on my bed with their backs facing me. Just past them were Pyrrha and a woman who looked disturbingly like she might have been Pyrrha's hotter older sister. All four of them were happily slurping at cans of soda that someone had procured, and every head in the room whipped towards me as I slammed into the ground shoulder first.

At first I thought the oddly peaceful sight had surprised me so much that I had gone completely still with shock. Then I started to hear the laughing. Not from anyone who had already been in the room when I arrived, but rather, from my own mouth. I landed and began to howl with mocking laughter, laughter than echoed through the room, and through my head in two distinct voices at once. Then I remember Archer had control of my body.

I remained stuck in my frozen confused state silently fuming until Archer turn our head so that we could get a better look at the hand Pyrrha was holding her soda can with. It was stuck with the can halfway to her lips while she stared perplexed at me. And on that hand, were three shiny red command seals. Suddenly Archer's mention of a busty woman dragging Weiss and Pyrrha out of the Forever Falls came back to me, and something in my brain that had been out of alignment until then fell into place.

Archer had warned me there was a Servant in this room, but he hadn't otherwise bothered to give me any advice on dealing with it. He hadn't even floated the suggestion that we either run or blow the whole thing up - which was painfully common for the taciturn older man. He had just said 'there was a servant here'. Which of course he had. Because he had known all along that there would be. Just like he had known that said Servant _probably_ wouldn't actually be a threat to me.

'Archeeeeer!" the howl of indignation going from mental to physical as the pesky Servant of the Bow relinquished control of my body back to me. The sudden yelling made Nora and Ren jerk backwards in surprise but was quickly over ridden by a soft giggle that grew louder and louder and as time drew on. I grumbled angrily, dusting myself off and standing only to find Pyrrha giggling so hard that the can of soda she was holding nearly vibrated right out of her hands. After a moment to calm down she look at me with those warm, all loving eyes of hers and said;

"Welcome home Jaune."

My gaze flicked back and forth between her and the red haired woman next to her, who was looking at me with a strange sort of curiosity. I wanted to be mad. I mean, Pyrrha had essentially set herself up so I would have to kill either her or her Servant if I wanted to win the war. But... but if I was guessing right, she had almost certainly done it to save me from that hell under the falls. Thinking over it, I found I couldn't feel anything but grateful to her and Weiss from almost certainly nearly dying for me.

With great care, I sidled around the huge stack of empty cans next to the Servant, and knelt to huge Pyrrha tightly.

"I'm back." I said softly. And then my grip tightened imperceptibly around Pyrrha's shoulders and she stiffened from more than just the impromptu physical affection.

"Now. Let's talk about how _bad_ you fucked up." I said chipperly. I loved them for sticking by me, but I was a Magus. I had enough room in my heart for Rage and Love both.

-ooo-

"Truly, I would be most grateful should you see fit to direct me to Saber. Ah, you nearly made a mistake there." Rider pointed out, hovering over my shoulder and nearly making my heart stop when I realize how close my head was to her chest. The sudden surprise of having a Servant magically appear next to me in the middle of the night was enough that I nearly dropped the two dust vials I was holding. An event that - while not fatal - would probably have been extremely painful and dangerous.

"I told you I don't know where he is." I said flatly, reorganizing my thoughts and continuing with my mixture. It had been about three days since I had come back from the Forever Falls. My leg was healed, my Prana had recovered and I had gotten the single best night of sleep I had experienced in months. That was pretty much where the positives ended.

"But he seemed to know and be fond of you." Rider pointed out, and I could hear a subtle edge in her voice that told me to be very, very careful, with my next words. I had learned a lot about the red headed bombshell in the last few days. For one, she was fiercely protective of the people she considered her own. Was a down right busybody about it in fact. I hadn't been immediately aware of it at the time, but Pyrrha had confided to me that during her last two combat classes Rider had been just a few rude comments away from pretty much killing everyone in the room with her. Which was another thing that sort of creeped me out. Whenever _I_ met her she always seemed like a fairly normal, considerate older woman. In the same way Archer was kind of like a shitty older brother, Rider was like Pyrrha's protective older sister. Only while Archer had roughly the same understanding of 'right' and 'wrong' as I did, Rider's outlook on things like morality was practically Alien.

Oh sure, Archer was completely willing to murder a bunch of people to get what he wanted, but he always made those suggestions with the understanding that it _was_ wrong. That he was only doing what he _had_ to. Rider held no such illusions, and neatly sorted the world into two groups of people. Enemies and Allies. To her Allies were basically family, people she had to look out for no matter what, but Enemies? Rider barely even qualified enemies as sentient beings let along people she should care about. It had taken exactly as long as Pyrrha had needed to explain how I got captured in the first place for Rider to dub CRDL enemies, and significantly longer to explain why murdering all of them probably wasn't going to work out well for us.

"He offered to let me work for him once. I told him I would think about it, but that was mostly because I was afraid he'd kill me." I answered honestly, if not necessarily while providing the full story. Truthfully, I had a hard time genuinely disliking Saber. He was a crime lords Servant true, but as far as I could tell he hadn't really done anything all that heinous. In fact, he seemed to be going well out of his way to protect and marshal the Faunus in the city.

"Wonderful. Contact him with your device and ask him where he is. Then I will slay him." Rider said clapping her hands together in front of her once and sending her barely restrained bosom to jiggling not an inch from my face. My eye twitched, and I pointedly didn't bother looking to see if anyone in the room had woken up at the clapping noise. It was the middle of the night, and I already knew for a fact that Pyrrha would have woken the second Rider started talking to me, Nora would have gotten up the second she thought something funny might happen, and Ren slept like a dead log and hence, wasn't worth worrying about.

"I...can't do that?" I tried, careful not to let anything she might do next disturb my dust mixture. I was nearly done my new weapon. My new Mystic Code. Crocea Mors had become a brittle piece of easily damage steel the minute the Yellow Death had left it, something I should have considered and obvious repercussion of releasing the being powering the Mystic Code, but had never occurred to me until the tip of the blade had been cracked by a single strike during my first practice bout with Weiss. I had done some soul searching and realized that, while I was going to need a shield, I was pretty mediocre with a sword. It wasn't so much that I had no idea how to use the thing, as much as it was that I just didn't have the reflexes built. I could defend myself because I had spent months in life or death situations making best use of my shield - but my sword had practically been an accessory to that point. More importantly, I needed a free hand to be able to use my Shape Stones, which were a key component in using my Dustcraft without spending precious moments chanting or scribing runes in the air. So like any good Magus, I was innovating. I would keep the shield, and leave the sword out for now. Maybe when the war was over, I could revisit being a gallant knight. But for now? Now I was going to fight like a Magus. I was going to match my Mysteries against my opponents, and if I was lucky, my opponents would be found lacking.

"You know Jaune, it wasn't uncommon for my warriors to revel in the pleasures of the flesh after a bloody battle." Rider pointed out with an innoccent sensuousness, pointing a single finger to my left where I knew Pyrrha was probably not-sleeping. There was an... awkwardness to her tone of voice. Like she was trying to be seductive but couldn't quite grasp how without being obscenely blunt about it. Another thing about her I found extremely disconcerting. Absolutely no subtlety, and even less propriety. I had a fairly decent grasp on her interests and wants within the first day of knowing her, simply because she would say them at pretty much any provocation. It was kind of sad really. She hated Romans (like Saber), She liked fighting, She _loved_ carbonated drinks, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out why Nora didn't just hold Ren down and do the deed. That last one had been something she said out loud, in the middle of the room at once point. Nora had been so shocked by the bluntness of the statement, and her inability to apply violence to a being drastically stronger than her that she had practically shut down. I mean complete and utter silence. For a solid half hour.

Not that any of that stopped her suggestion from being highly appealing to my teenage body, and terribly embarrassing for my teenage mind.

"I...ah...don't..." I stammered, and felt a sharp pain as the ice dust I was pouring cascaded over my naked hand freezing the thing and causing my Aura to dip as it rushed forth to rectify the problem.

'I like her. We should kill her last.' Archer deadpanned from the corner of the room he had taken to sitting in. While he had originally chosen not to hang out in our room for fear of tipping off the enemy Magi, recent events had made it clear the activity served no purpose other than to put him farther away from me when we were in need.

Also, he wanted to be around in case Rider tried to kill me in my sleep.

'Shut up you.' I mentally snarled at him, allowing some of the pain I was feeling to come out in my expression. Archer rolled his eyes and then turned to glance at Pyrrha. When my gaze turned to follow his, I found the younger red head watching me through a single hooded eyelid, that quickly slammed shut with far too much tension to be the result of someone 'sleeping'.

"I, ahem, I ah, don't think Pyrrha see's me that way." I responded, finally clearing all the loose dust after using alteration to make it inert and therefore, impossible to accidentally blow up with a sneeze or something equally unlucky. Before me were the fruits of my labor. Over a dozen vials of mixed dust, carefully processed, and contained in modified vials that had been reinforced and hardened against impact. The vials themselves contained small wells of my blood at the bottom of themselves, and were positively covered in runic script. Further back on the table, lay the nondescript grey shield Miss Goodwitch had provided for me. It too had been heavily modified, with channels and loops built into it to slot all of the other parts I would need, as well as circulate Prana through it all. To call my new weapon a Mystic Code might be somewhat facetious. In truth, it was several Mystic Codes, cobbled together in an almost impossible to follow mishmash of that would - if I was lucky - result in the handful of effects I wanted, for a fairly low Prana cost. I had learned my lesson from Caster well. I would not be caught unawares, or taken out just because I couldn't activate my circuits.

"Are you sure? I'm certain if you were to walk over right now and -" Rider said curiously. There was no guile in her voice. Just the bland protestations of someone who didn't think they were wrong and wanted to know why you thought they were.

"Rider!" Pyrrha cried, shooting up from where she was so pointedly not-sleeping mere moments before.

"Ah Master. Jaune and I were just speaking about you. Were he to help me slay Saber, would you not find it most befitting to take him to bed and ravish -"

"Please. Please stop." Pyrrha begged. We looked across the room at each other with our faces bright red in embarrassment. This wasn't the first, and probably wouldn't be the last time Rider tried to match make us. I had no idea why she did it, and apparently neither did Pyrrha, but no matter what we said she just _refused to stop_.

"As you wish." Rider sighed with a shrug of her shoulders that sent her chest wobbling again, and reminding me that she was still pretty much standing an inch away from me. That fact seemed to dawn on Pyrrha at about the same time as me, because her face went from embarrassed, to angry, to beatific in the space of about five seconds. I decided that was probably my queue, and quickly slid my chair to the left of the little table I was working at, hurriedly pushing vials and shape gems into the spots they were to occupy on my shield.

"I wish." Pyrrha agreed pleasantly, and even though she was smiling I could make out the vein at her temple throbbing furiously. Rider seemed to have picked up on it too, well, that or Pyrrha was yelling at her mentally, because she quickly blanched and faded from view, her body coming apart in a glow of golden particles.

"WellI'mgonnagopracticewiththisnightPyrrha." I spat faster than I thought it was possibly to actually talk. Archer was cackling in the background about finding this hilarious from the outside, and I chose to ignore the jerk, merely snapping the shield off the table and practically leaping into my shoes, and then out the door.

The second I got out the door, Archer appeared next to me, smoothly walking along at my side while I power walked towards another set of Wards that had gone up within the last day. Assassin's master - or at least, I assumed it was Assassin's master - had caught on to what I was doing within about a day of me starting my campaign against them, or 'her' if Assassin is to be believed, which in my opinion, he's not. Now, I destroyed as many Ward's as I could reach during the day, and over night more would spring up. But I was gaining ground. It took a lot longer to make a bounded field than it did to destroy one, and both the enemy master and I had to work within our school schedules. So while Assassin's Master had to be careful not to get caught putting the wards up by Archer, I - who had already been identified - could tear through the things with impunity. What's more, I could precast my spells into dust crystals, which meant that over the last few days I had been haphazardly throwing up _my own_ bounded fields by leaving the things in bushes and trashcans. For me it was as much effort as an underhanded toss took. By my estimates one of two things was going to happen soon. Either I was going to be confronted by Assassin's Master, or I would take over the entire area of the school with my own fields, and be able to start defending _my_ new territory.

"You know, that's going to be a problem eventually." Archer pointed out to me stoically, hooking a thumb over his shoulder back at my room.

"What, Rider?" I asked absently, keeping an eye on my surroundings while also fiddling with my new shield and all it's accompanying baubles. I sent a burst of Prana through it, and watched in child like glee as the minute amount of my blood in each of the recessed vials began to glow a dull red light - drawing the Prana in the air towards it so that it could replenish the energy lost by the dust in each container. Once active, I could use the Prana stored in the blood to trigger most of the weapons generic effects, and only have to use my own Prana for the more... showy... abilities I had built into it. Assuming it didn't just explode the second I tried to use it. Fifty-fifty odds on that one.

"Her fixation on Saber. She could run off and leave you or Pyrrha undefended at any moment if he shows up during a fight." Archer explained. Instead of of dismissing him out of hand because 'I liked her' or something similarly puerile, I stopped to really consider his words. This was something I was trying to do more often with Archer recently. Not just hear him talk but really consider what he said, ask for clarification, and take suggestions. I think that, more than anything, had gone a long way towards mending some of our friendship.

"Can we do anything about it?" I asked after a moment, and Archer nodded his head at me approvingly.

"No, but being aware of that fact is important when planning anything. You have to assume Rider is unreliable and work from there. Even if she turns out to be more loyal than we thought, the only surprises we'll receive can be good in nature."

"You realize your entire planning strategy seems to be 'assume everything that can go wrong, will probably go wrong' " I pointed out to him teasingly. He just stared at me like I was an idiot.

"That's because it does." he said with a snort.

"Are you talking to yourself?" A low feminine voice called to me from the end of the hallway I was in, and I instantly stopped moving, raising my shield in front of me.

'Assassin?' I asked Archer, who shook his head no.

'Keep a lookout, I don't want you to kill a random student just for surprising me in the halls.' I told him. Even with that said, I still didn't lower my shield, instead choosing to reinforce myself and take a slightly looser, if not necessarily relaxed stance. As the lip of the shield came down, I saw a girl with mid length brown hair and a black beret standing at the other end of the hallway. She was wearing of all things a black corset on top of brown long sleeve shirt that both looked like they must have cost more than all my possessions combined, and was daintily holding a little black handbag in one hand, with the other planted firmly against her waist. She practically radiated command, and mentally I had already started comparing her to Bianca when Archer spoke.

'Handbag is a minigun.' He said helpfully.

"A fucking _minigun? Really?!"_ I yelped before my mind could reassert itself over the sudden surprise and stop me from blurting the words out. The girl paused and leaned forward, looking me over. There was a hunger to her, an interest that had nothing to do with sex, as well as a gleam of intelligence in her eyes that frankly, scared the shit out of me. She pursed her lips in thought then took a single step forward, and I cursed myself a coward when I took a matching step back. If her weapon was a gun, then being closer to her could only benefit me. That step hadn't been a tactical decision. It had been a reaction. A reaction to a predator.

"...I suppose you could have asked about the second years in preparation for the Festival." the woman mused aloud. I didn't bother to say anything in response, not wanting to give away anything she didn't already know. After a few more seconds of silence she rolled her eyes and cocked a hip, sending the belt covered in ammo at her waist to softly tinkling, like a wind chime.

"Look, it's late and I'd like to get my beauty sleep. I'm only out here because I wanted to ask you a question _._ " She said, and a feral, malicious grin spread across her face as she continued.

"What" she lowered her arm and ran a thumb over the clasp for her purse.

" _The fuck"_ the bag exploded outward, ballooning to dozens of times it's size into - just like Archer said - _a freaking minigun._

 **"** ** _Did you do to Velvet."_** She finished, and the barrel of the gun began to spin, heating up and getting ready to fire.

"The... bunny girl?" I asked incredulously. My mind skipped for a few seconds until finally settling back down on a train of thought.

"Yeah freshman. _The bunny girl._ " She said through now gritted teeth. The barrel of the gun continued to spin, faster and faster, and it gave me the impression of a timer running down. Like I had until the gun started firing to answer the question.

"N-nothing! I stopped some guys from bullying her one time!" I answered honestly, now beginning to get the impression that this might not have anything to do with Servants and magecraft at all.

"Wrong answer!" She yelled, and the gun began to bark. The sound was ungodly - like the repeated whipcrack explosion of thunder striking not once, not twice, but hundreds of times all against the same poor stupid tree. Unfortunately for me, in that moment, _I_ was the stupid tree. I drew up my shield, and quickly triggered one of my new defensive abilities. A wall of force expanded outward from the metal disc, rounded at the edges and stretched just past my outline in all directions. No sooner had I finished doing so than bullets began to slam into me, faster and faster until I found myself sweating just from the effort of holding my shield up against the onslaught.

"For days now, my poor Velvet has been cowering in her room, _terrified_ that someone is coming for her. She's never reacted like that to any bully I've ever seen before, and she has suffered _a lot_ since coming to this school." The girl yelled with barely contained fury over the bark of her gun. She strode slowly towards me, and it didn't escape my notice that, despite how insanely powerful that gun was, she was holding it steady with almost _no_ kickback. So she was either using dust to deal with it, or she was just _insanely_ strong. I really hoped it was the first, but got the sinking feeling that it was the second. After all, everything that can go wrong...

With a sigh, I mentally threw a tally on Archer's side of our board for using his quote, then refocused on the battle. I couldn't stay pinned down like this. It was suicide to just let her keep wailing on me. I would run out of Aura or Prana at some point, and then she could just bludgeon me to death. Damn. This woman would get along _great_ with Bianca.

"Listen lady, I swear I haven't done anything to her! I saved her from some bullies and then she got scared of me and ran away!" I called over my shield, even as I ran prana through the channels in the metal. I didn't really want to test this thing in the field, but at the end of the day, it was probably best I get it done now than later. At least I could be reasonably certain another student wouldn't outright kill me. Thinking about it that way actually kind of calmed me down a bit. I mean, my life wasn't in danger. Not really. So why panic? Better to come at this smart. Calculated.

"She hasn't even been going to _class_ you bastard!" cursed the brown haired woman. There was a pause in the gun fire and I realized she was practically on top of my, glaring up at me from beneath her black beret.

"I dunno okay? Do you want me to come apologize for helping her? I can do that if you'll stop -" I tried, when I thought she might actually be considering listening to me. Only, before I could finish my sentence, in the blind spot created by my shield, she lifted one booted foot and kicked forward, directly into my shield. The force of the blow launched me backwards, sending me crashing into the wall when the hallway turned abruptly into a corner. Confusion flooded me. This intersection was _way_ further behind me than she should have been able to throw me. What the hell did they feed the students here that _this_ was the difference in strength from only a single year? My shield arm and shoulder hurt like hell, and a quick analysis told me several of my bones had actually fractured from the hit. From a single hit. Okay. Win now. Talk later.

"You think I'm going to let you get _anywhere_ near her?" The woman attacking me said darkly, and I heard the Minigun begin to spin up again. Yeah I was done being reasonable here.

 **"For it is by walking in the wake of Giants, that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a force, to be reckoned by all."** I chanted, the spell words coming to me like they had always been there, just waiting for me to notice them. It was a curious phenomenon. I had originally just been cannibalizing ideas I had seen in my dreams of Archer when I had come up with the first verse. But now, now it felt like it fit. Like the words were _meant_ for me. Prana flooded through the complex network of gems, vials and runes I had created inside the shield, all of them connected by a dense line of script spiraling out for my grip and covering almost every available surface of the Mystic Code. My Flamen Volcanalis. With a gleeful abandon I pushed the code to its limit, and to my sides, blades began to form. One of pure fire, of plasma and heat. One, an almost invisible distortion in the air, one of compressed force so great it could destroy a building if fully unleashed. One of hoar frost, of lightning, and more. One for every type of dust I could get my greedy little hands on. This was what I had been spending days mixing dust for.

Archer had once told me, that Magecraft wasn't special. That to blow up a rock with it, you had to spend the same energy it would take you to do it manually. But dust, dust almost entirely subverted that point. My Dustcraft drew the energy it needed to function not from me, but the power _in_ the dust. Once I realized that, it was only a short leap away to replacing my weapon with the stuff. After all, people kept telling me I was a _much_ better Magus than a Swordsmen. Why not combine the two? Of course, getting the right mixture had been something of a pain - if I was off by even a little bit, the Dustblades would just fall apart and waste of bunch of energy. Or worse, explode. But now? Well...

 **"Trace, on."** I said, and suddenly every piece of information I was grabbing with my Analysis spell was being fed to the blades, going from my mind, to the shield, and back out again at a rapid pace that gave me a headache pretty much immediately. I knew for a fact that what I did when I said Trace, On and what Archer did were two completely different things - but Magecraft is partially about belief and visualization. And when I imagined shooting swords at people?

Well you take a guess.

'What.' Archer said in disbelief.

"What." My attacker said in annoyance, probably assuming I was talking to her, but watching the hovering blades warily.

I waved my right hand forward, dislodging the gravity blade from where it hovered in a defensive pattern nearest me and leaving the remainder of my blades behind me. It spun forward, leveling it's point at the woman in front of me.

"Last chance. I'm innocent here." I said, and wasn't surprised when she snorted and pulled the trigger on her gun again. I squnited at her in annoyance, then raised my shield once more. But this time, the distorted field of gravity in the shape of a sword shot forward, slamming directly in to the woman's chest as she fired. The motion was so quick even _I_ was surprised. At first, nothing happened, and she opened her mouth to say something - probably something rude - but then, like magic, she fell to one knee.

The thing I loved about my new weapon, was how disturbingly dangerous it was. On the one hand, I had _always_ been able to actualize concepts on my own Aura. I did it all the time. Until now, it was pretty much my primary method of attack. But Flamen Volcanalis changed things. Even now, I could feel the mass of gravity energy and prana, hovering in the immaterial oasis that provided all of this womans Aura. And like a switch being flipped, I actualized the very concept of gravity on it. Turning her Aura - the one thing no fighter could ever discard, or get rid of, into a multi ton prison that she could never get rid of. Of course, I could have also just stabbed her real good, but this was a lot less lethal.

And fuck me but she was still standing.

"What the hell _are_ you?" I asked incredulously, walking forward and using a foot to push the barrel of her gun away from me. She had stopped firing in the confusion, but she still looked up at me, quivering with effort, with those hateful eyes. After a while of struggling, and glaring at me with that challenging look to her, she eventually gave up. The fact that I planted the _rest_ of my swords in the ground in front of her might have had something to do with that.

"Call..me... Coco..." She gasped from where she was starting to visibly sink into the solid stone floor of the castle, cracking the whole thing and making me wonder if there was anything under us that would be hurt if it fell through.

"Oh thank god, were talking now." I said with a sarcastic sigh. "Look seriously, I didn't do anything do your friend. I saw some guys bullying her and beat them up, then she ran away. Nothing more - I swear."

Coco glared up at me for a few more seconds before her face went carefully neutral. Then after a few seconds more she said;

"Can't... breath..." then fell face first onto the ground, cracking it visibly when her head bounced off of it. I stared blankly at the unconscious woman before I realized there were people watching. Not just now, but probably _the whole time_. This was the dorm area after all. Dozens of faces looking quizzically out from half open doors, and I could hear the sounds of yelling as people ran up the halls towards us.

"Shiiiiiiit." I groaned, already dreading the rumors this would cause. I waved a hand, withdrawing my gravity sword from Coco's Aura and then dismissed all my new toys - ahem, weapons. The shield didn't really have a mecha shift, mostly because I wasn't good enough to build one in, so I slung it over my back, then bent down to pick up Coco. Then, I ran like hell.

'Jaune what the hell was that?' Archer asked me urgently, and I ignored him. I grinned as I sprinted up the hall then darted to the left while I tried to find a place to hide until Coco could wake up.

'Jaune I'm not kidding!' Archer barked at me. I continued to ignore him. Mostly because he seemed so agitated.

'Jaune!' He yelled once more as I ran. I marked another tally on the board for myself, then ran cackling into the night. Damn but it felt good to win for once.

 **-ooo-**

 **Hey there! I know I said I'd slow down but as it turns out, I strained my Achilles tendons, can't stand, and can't work. So** ** _you_** **my lucky readers, get to reap the benefits of** ** _my_** **flimsy human frailty.**

 **Go entropy!**

 **If anyone is curious, Flamen Volcanalis is what the High Priest of Vulcan's faith would have been called in Ancient Rome. I figure as long as I was making Jaune a new more magecraft oriented weapon I'd stick with his old naming convention and use a Roman one. Plus you know. Vulcan. Forges. Blades. I'm a simple man. Plus even if Jaune doesn't actually learn to do what Archer can, it'd be folly to assume he takes 0 inspiration from the guy.**

 **As many of you have surmised, the Servant from last chapter was Kiyohime, and the reason her outfit was black instead of blue was because I wen't with the second or third ascension versions of each character just for arguments sake. Boudica for instance has significantly more actual clothing by that point and hence is more appealing to me as an actual character and not just waifu bait. Anyway, and as always,**

 _ **Thanks for reading.**_


	19. Once & Future

'You can't call it that!' Archer said indignantly as I ran through the halls. I had explained the principles behind Flamen Volcanalis to Archer while I ran - mostly because I couldn't use 'being out of breath' as an excuse to avoid talking with my mind. Like my earlier thoughts on the matter, the Blades I created with the Mystic Code weren't really a result of Tracing. I knew intellectually that Tracing was a hideously complex process by which Archer recreated an object down to its History and past users. That was something I could barely wrap my mind around considering let alone doing. The sheer amount of information to be processed was so vast I was fairly certain that if I even attempted it, my head would explode. So no, I couldn't Trace. What I _could_ do, was use Structural Analysis to jury-rig the coordinates and and formula's required to shift my blades around, using my vision and some hand gestures to get the job done where I would normally have to dedicate a complex portion of my Mystic Code to the purpose. Ironically, when I was coming up with the thing and asked Archer about it, he said most Magi got around having to think about stuff like that by capturing a smaller spirit and using it as the 'brain' for the device.

I wondered why the Yellow Death was doing right about now.

'Why not? It's all in my head anyway.' I responded, pausing in the middle of another empty hallway to check for pursuers - there were none - and then slowing my pace to a more casual walk.

'Because it's demeaning!' Archer exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. 'Because it's a useless form of Magecraft that I spent my entire life perfecting, and that even then, was only useful because of the _hell_ that was the Holy Grail War!'

'Oh boohoo. The words I use to cast my spells _demean_ you.' I drawled at him, testing the door to an empty classroom and finding it unlocked. I carefully readjusted my hold on Coco and nudged the door open, sliding inside. The door closed with a soft click behind me, and the classroom - a tiered lecture hall I had never been in but that looked the exact same as Port's classroom sans the trophies - was completely silent. A silence that was ruined when Archer phased through the door to continue his rant.

'I'm serious Jaune! Call it something else!' He whined, and I rolled my eyes. I could tell right off that he wasn't actually all _that_ bothered by it. He was waving his arms around and speaking like a normal person after all. Plus despite all the griping his eyes never stopped scanning for threats. Archer, I knew, was at his most piqued when he _stopped_ being animated. When the cold mantle of death fell over him, and his unbreathing form became unnaturally still and taught, like a bow drawn but not fired.

'Fine. I'll think about it. Whats with you anyway?' I asked, laying Coco down in a corner of the room with her back against the wall. I thought about it for a second and then stole her beret, mostly because I thought it looked suave and also because she fired a freaking minigun at me and I felt entitled to a trophy. I flipped the stolen article onto my head at an angle then pulled out a seat and dropped down into it, making sure to keep Coco and the door to the classroom in my field of view.

'It's... Jaune I've had very few 'wins' in my life.' Archer said after a moment, his tone shifting to something that I could almost describe as vulnerable if I wanted to be stabbed to death by Kanchou and Bakuya.

'One of those victories, probably the _most_ important one, was against a man named Gilgamesh,' Archer paused and looked at me like that was a name I should recognize then snorted in derision when I stared blankly at him. The beret fell forward on my face and I pushed it back up to the top of my head. I didn't really care that it didn't fit right. I beat a second year in a fight, I deserved a cool hat.

'Gilgamesh was known as the King of Heroes. The most powerful Servant to have ever existed. And do you know what he called me during that confrontation? A _Faker_.' The Servant of the bow continued. He said 'Faker' with a particular mien to him, a slight change in how he phrased his words that made me feel like he was trying to copy the way someone else had once said it to him. I didn't say anything, just settling in to listen to the story.

'He was right of course. I _was_ a Faker. In more ways than he could ever really know. I faked normality. I was a third rate fake Magus. And I wielded copies of legendary weapons. Fakes.' Archer got a wistful look on his face, like he was remembering better times. Then a feral grin spread across his face, a smile about as pleasant as a freshly sharpened knife splitting his usually stoic expression.

'And I kept on Faking, right up until I killed him. So that's why Jaune, that phrase, this magecraft - it has meaning to me. Even if I didn't think of it as anything but a tool while alive,

'Besides - you're many things Jaune, but a poor Magus isn't among them. I've seen _that_ first hand. So if nothing else, you definitely _aren't_ a faker.' The white haired Servant finished, his eyes containing a hint of warmth for a second before it was snuffed out, replaced by his usual aloof demeanor.

'Aw I love you too buddy.' I said sarcastically, and he narrowed his eyes at me in mock annoyance.

'You know, next time Nora asks me to make pancakes I -' Archer froze, then turned fractionally towards the door.

'Someones coming.' he said, then vanished from my sight. I was up and moving before the door even opened, pulling my shield from it's position on my back and remounting it solidly on my arm. The minor fractures Coco had caused were already healing, and I flexed it experimentally while I ducked behind the cover of the lecture halls desks, hiding me from sight. The door creaked open slowly, as if whoever was coming was hesitant to come in, but then there was a gasp and the door flew all the way open. I cursed as I realized why. I was hidden, but there was someone else here who was not.

"Coco!" a voice called out anxiously, it's source drawing closer with every passing minute.

'It's the bunny girl.' Archer told me before she even came into my field of view.

'Any sign of Assassin?' I asked and I received the mental equivalent of a dismissive grunt in response. So no Servant. That was good at least. Would suck to get into a fight with an enemy while these two were around.

"Coco! Coco are you okay?! What happened?!" The alarmed sound of Velvet's voice drew my attention as she flew past my hiding spot, evidently having hurled herself from the top of the stairs to to bottom where I had placed my brown haired attacker.

"Oh god, oh god." murmured the voice in obvious panic.

"I told you not to go after him! He's dangerous!" She blubbered, hands running over the the other girls form, her back to me.

'I'm what now?' I asked Archer indignantly.

'You did pretty much have four guys dead to rights within a second of meeting her.' Archer pointed out.

'I saved her!' I complained.

'You'll find that people you save are rarely grateful for longer than it takes to lose sight of you.' My servant said darkly.

'Bullshit! Watch.' I answered petulantly.

'Don't you dare -' Was Archers clipped answer, but by then it was too late. I stood from my hiding spot, eyeing the rabbit girl cautiously. Now that she wasn't actively fleeing from me I could genuinely say she was pretty, in an understated sort of way. She didn't have the exaggerated proportions or flawless skin of some of the other Huntsmen I knew, but she was pretty none the less. Less of an 'untouchable' beauty, and more the girl next door. Her skin was weathered, like someone who spent a lot of time outside but never quite managed to get a tan from it. Her frame was slight - something that in no way told me anything about her physical strength because she was a Huntsmen, and therefore had access to Aura. And her hair was a chestnut brown. It was another thing that added to her homeliness. Most Hunters, even if their hair wasn't naturally so, chose to dye their hair. All the better to stand out.

"She's fine. Just unconscious." I said finally. The Velvet's head whipped towards me so fast I thought she might have hurt herself, and I found myself staring down into terrified brown orbs that were clearly on the verge of tears.

"Did you... did you do this?" She asked fearfully, waving a hand in Coco's direction.

"Ah. Well. Yeah. But she started it!" I defended myself, one hand - the one not wielding my shield - coming up to brush through my hair nervously. I released an awkward laugh, and then stopped when I saw something change in the girl I was looking at. A sort of shifting of gears, only of a much greater magnitude, like a train jumping tracks. There was a brutal resolve there that I felt uncomfortable for recognizing. It was the resolve of someone who was pretty sure they were going to die in the next little bit.

"Hey hang on I don't -" I tried to dissuade her, but stopped with my jaw hanging open at what happened next.

Velvet, the nervous, teary eyed bunny girl, glared fiercely at me, and then stuck one hand out.

 **"Trace, On."** She whispered, but the sound might as well have been a scream for how well it carried to my ears. Prana flared, and where once there was nothing, now a giant sword rested in her outstretched hand, the blade nearly as long as she was tall.

"What the fuck?!" I exclaimed a the same time as Archer clicked his tongue in annoyance.

'You know Jaune, I think I hate this place.' He said dryly. I didn't have an honest chance to answer that because then she was atop me, giant blade swinging down at my head. I reinforced myself, and slid to the right letting the bastard sword slide off my shield and into the ground next to me where it ripped apart a chair and most of the desk section that had been there.

"I would have left you alone!" growled the now quite terrifying bunny girl, who responded to my block by shifting her stance and swinging the flat of the bastard sword at me like it was a huge baseball bat. I hadn't expect the attack, assuming such a huge weapon would require more work to re balance, and was caught off guard, bouncing off the weapon with an audible thunk and through the section of desks above me.

I used the momentum of the attack to keep moving, rolling away and lunging to my feet just in time to avoid another downward slash that would have decapitated me, and then using all my strength to throw myself to the opposite side of the room, as far away from the enraged woman as possible.

"I would have forfeited the whole thing!" She continued, _hurling_ the sword at me. Once more I narrowly avoided the attack, using only the barest movement of my body to conserve energy. It sank two feet into the wall behind me, and I took that as an opportunity to counter attack.

 **"For it is only by - "** I began the chant to forge my blades.

'Move!' Archer warned me, nearly to late. I flung myself forward and back towards my attacker, but wasn't quite fast enough to entirely avoid taking a hit to my Aura when the bastard sword _exploded_ , ripping a hole in the wall and providing an entrance to the next room - which happened to be a combat cell from the looks of it.

"But my friends? You don't _get_ to touch my friends." Velvet said coldly, and I suddenly found her looming over me like an avenging wraith, only the whites of her eyes visible in the shadows cast by the moonlight.

Well, one win for the night looked like was going to have to be good enough for me. I could probably take her if I went for lethal force or well... _could chant my new super cool spell_. But since I couldn't I figured I'd opt for the next best thing. Using the barest flicker of my will, I drained some energy from my vial of force dust, and used it to fling myself backwards and through the hole into the combat cell.

When we landed, Archer was in control. He wrinkled his nose and unstrapped my Flamen Volcanalis almost immediately, setting it on the floor and kicking it into a corner of the room where it wouldn't be in the way.

'Hey!' I yelled, and the Servant just shrugged.

'It was in the way.' He told me over our link. Aloud he said; "Come on over little Faker, let me show you how it's done. **Trace, on.** "

The effect was immediate. Velvet stepped through the threshold into the new room, two giant swords hovering over her shoulders, identical to the one she had hurled at me before. She watched with thinly veiled contempt as Kanchou and Bakuya appeared in Archer's hands, her eyes pacing over the blades once before shooting back up to lock eyes with us. Then everything was moving again. She lunged towards us, two gauntlets with sharp blades protruding from their sides appearing on her hands. She wielded them against us with expert skill, darting forward to exchange a blistering fast volley of blows against Archer, who humored her by matching her instead of simply using his vastly superior speed and strength to end the fight.

Velvet, probably unaware that she was fighting a Servant at the moment, stepped back just in time for both of the giant blades hovering behind her to wing forward in dual overhead chops that would have torn my arms from my shoulders before I ever noticed the attack coming.

But Archer was in control now, and if there was one thing he knew better than anything else, it was blades. The Servant raised his weapons, catching both bastard swords in a block with no apparent effort. He stood there, examining the weapons for a moment as the pushed down on him from overhead.

"Nice swords." Velvet admitted from where she stood, having backed away to the opposite side of the room. Then she smirked and said; "Mine are bigger."

Immediately I recognized what she was trying to do, and I turned my mind towards warning Archer.

'She's going to -'

'Jaune. Give me some credit.' The Servant snarked at me, changing the angle of his short swords and batting both of the about to explode weapons across the room to rest in the wall next to Velvet. The girls eyes widened, and she dashed back towards us, apparently unable to halt the process of detonation once she had started it. Archer met her newest flurry of attacks amidst the sounds of concrete flying apart and I winced. There was no way a teacher wasn't on their way here right now. They would have to be crazy to let this type of thing go. Or stupid.

"It's about quality kid." Archer drawled at the furiously attacking Faunus, before he settled in and started actually _using_ his superior speed against her. Slowly, he pushed her back every blow driving her to her knees or knocking the wind out of her. He made sure never to actually hit her hard enough to kill her, just driving punishing blow after punishing blow into her weapons until they began to crack under the pressure.

"You have no idea what you're doing do you? You realize size has nothing to do with how powerful a broken phantasm is?" Archer droned, lazily kicking out with a foot in a dirty maneuver that Velvet had to leap over, opening herself up to the flying elbow he unleashed against her when her airborne status made it impossible to dodge. The strike flung the girl away, lodging her in the wall nearest us.

"And why haven't you copied these yet? You must be able to. You're Tracing the weapons you make - I'm sure of that." Archer said, hefting his trusty short swords slightly to emphasize his point.

"You act like you don't even know what these are. How are you Tracing _anything_ without Structural Analysis?" Archer asked incredulously, patiently waiting for the girl to pull herself free. When she did, she stumbled forward, and the fear was once more present in her face.

"You -"

'I can take over Archer.' I said, not letting him finish his weird diatribe. I could gather that he was insulted to have been proven wrong about Tracing so soon after explaining why I wasn't allowed to use it, but he seemed less insulted and more just... confused. Like he was seeing something impossible and genuinely wanted to understand it.

"- Nevermind. My Master wants to talk to you." He said instead of whatever he was going to say. Then I was back in my body. Velvet eyed me warily, probably waiting for me to attack her again. Kanchou and Bakuya disappeared from my hands at the same time as their owner vanished from my body, so I patiently walked over to my shield in the corner of the room and hefted it up.

"What are you?" The girl whispered hoarsely at me as I returned to my former position in front of her.

"Seriously? Look let me be completely clear okay? Here's the chain of events. I save you from some bullies. I go for a walk. Your friend tries to kill me. I defend myself. I bring her here to wait for her to wake up _so we can talk_. You show up. _I try to talk_. Then _you_ try to kill me." I said, counting on my fingers as I went. Velvet looked at me like incredulously, like she couldn't quite fathom what I was talking about. It also didn't escape my notice that she hadn't been the slightest bit surprised by Archer's mention of a Master.

"But- but you're a Magus! You're supposed to be cruel and brag a lot, and have a lot of insane sex! The book said so!" The bunny girl blurted.

"I - what the hell are you _talking_ about?" I said flushed with what was definitely anger and not embarrassment.

"Yes. I too would like to understand what is going on." A frigid voice called down to us from the entrance to the room. To my credit, I didn't jump out of my own skin and then run screaming for help.

But that was only because I knew it wouldn't work.

"Evening Ma'am." I said, forcing as much banal nicety into the statement as I could. Then I turned slowly around to find exactly what I had been expecting at the door. Well, not _exactly_ what I was expecting. Certainly I figured Goodwitch would show up and put the fear of god in me at some point - that's why I ran away with Coco in the first place. But what stood before me was a very different Goodwitch. Her hair was down, for one thing. And she was squinting down at us, no doubt as a result of not wearing her glasses. But most different of all, was the nightgown she was wearing. It was pink, frilly, and only just barely opaque enough to not be indecent.

It was a testament to my well deserved fear of Goodwitch that I chose to pretend I had never seen this, and dedicated myself to never, _ever_ mentioning it.

"Jaune? I should have known." She said with a tired sigh. She must have been dragged directly from bed to deal with this. It made sense. We were basically at a highschool for superpowered teenagers. This must be more common than anyone would like to admit.

"I can explain!" Velvet and I both blurted at the same time, then turned to glare at one another.

"I'm sure you can. In the morning. To the Headmaster." Goodwitch answered us, her voice clipped and obviously annoyed.

"But for now, report to the infirmary." She said, waving us past her even as her semblance reached out to start somehow reassembling the broken room we were in.

"The infirmary? Why? Neither of us is hurt," I winced remembering the few blows I had taken from Velvet before switching with Archer, then added; "Much."

"I should think it obvious Jaune. When a student is about to undergo disciplinary action, we have to include a list of their transgressions - including any injuries caused - in the report." She answered me, though not with the usual primness she usually displayed during the day. It was more of a resigned acceptance that she was going to have to deal with this.

"Am I... in trouble?" I asked sheepishly, glancing at the swiftly repairing hole to the room Coco was still in. If I was in trouble now, just _wait_ till she heard the whole story. Then again, none of this was technically my fault so...

"Don't worry Jaune. First infractions aren't uncommon here. You'll serve some detentions at worst. I'd expect a call from your Mother soon though. We have to call your parents when things like this happen." the Teacher said, no doubt trying to comfort me so we could move on and she could go back to bed. I would have had something to say to that but something she said had caught my attention.

They had to call my parents.

My parents were going to know where I was and what I was doing.

My parents - who had no idea where I was or what I had been doing since disappearing from the hospital in Ansel.

My parents, who would rather see me crippled than a Hunter.

...shit.

 **-ooo-**

 **So here's a really short chapter to finish up the events of the previous one. There's actually a fair bit more I wanted to put in here, but I really wanted to end on this particular note. The** ** _actual_** **chapter title should be Once and Future Fakers, but I thought it'd be a nice surprise to leave the last bit out. To me this is the natural progression of a character like Velvet having access to the Fate setting. Her Canon counterpart pretty much fights like this in the first place.**

 **Some of you may have noticed I started another Fic - if you curious you can find it through my profile, but the cliffnotes on it is 'Lancelot Du Lac in the Marvel Universe'. Short, sweet, to the point. I don't plan on investing a whole lot into that one until I finish Throne of Heroes, but you can reasonably expect me to update it once or twice a month when I get writers block or just need a break from doing this every week.**

 **I feel there was a slight misinterpretation of what I was trying to get across for Boudica in the previous chapter. She's not a whore or a slut of any kind. She was - from all accounts - a loyal wife and mother. What I was trying to get across is that in Boudica's time there wasn't exactly a whole lot to do, and the Abrahamic religions hadn't spread across the world to preach celibacy yet. Murder, fighting, and war were much more common and accepted things than they are now, and Boudica in my story reflects that. She simply doesn't see a problem with doing what you want when you can get away with it, just like she doesn't see a problem with killing her enemies. Remember this is a woman who - if stories are to be believed - literally killed every man, woman, and child she came across provided she thought they were Roman. She genuinely didn't give a shit.**

 **I'd also like to thank FiendLurcher, who takes the time to point out my errors every time they leave a review. I don't always get the time to go back and fix said errors, but I take note of them. If it seems like I don't always take that to heart it's only because I write 99% of my stuff while en route to work and sleep deprived :P.**

 **I'll probably do another chapter tomorrow or tonight for lack of anything better to do, but no promises. Oh and as always.**

 _ **Thanks for reading.**_


	20. Instruction

"But I didn't do anything!" I wheezed as Goodwitch floated Coco, Velvet and I into the infirmary. I know I had originally decided that running away wasn't a viable option, but my panicked reaction to my _mom_ being called had caused me to reconsider. Goodwitch, it is worth noting, seemed more bored and tired than anything else. Once the initial shock of walking into our situation had worn off she had taken to explaining the particulars of what was to happen next to us with an almost glassy-eyed stare. As it turned out, my assumption that something like this was more common than anyone would like turned out to be correct. Goodwitch was very, very, accustomed to unruly students tearing up parts of the school at all hours. Her ability to perform rapid construction work with her Semblance was one apparently born from many years of experience, rather than innate talent. If anything, she was surprised that it had taken this long for something to come up this year. I could tell she was tired because she was quite open about her speculation that it would be Yang that caused the first incident.

All that is to say, running _still_ turned out not to be a very good idea, because fleeing students, much like construction work, were a scenario Goodwitch had mastered long ago.

"Be that as it may , we are required by law to inform your legal guardian when something like this happens on school grounds." The teacher said with a yawn. My mind ranged suspiciously back to my altercation with Cardin in the cafeteria.

"But nothing happened in the cafeteria!" I objected.

"I assure you Jaune, _Cardin's_ parents were contacted. He was injured after all," she answered plainly.

"So if I can prove I'm not injured right now you'll let me go?" I said, pouncing on her words.

"There is something of a difference between the levels of force involved." She answered, sidestepping my question.

"Miss Goodwitch you don't understand - you _can't_ call my mom!" I begged, what little scraps of decorum I had maintained till now falling away. The blonde teacher didn't bother responding. Instead she floated Velvet, Coco and I through the door of the infirmary and stepped in after us. My thoughts were scattered, and all I could do was think about the life I had built for myself here. The friends I had made and would be taken away from.

"Ah, miss? I think this might just be a big misunderstanding..." Velvet chimed in. She didn't seem all that worried about disciplinary action, but following our fight it seemed like at least _some_ of what I had to say had gotten through to her. Throughout our short trip she had been shooting me guilty, almost apologetic looks, interspersed with annoyed glances at Coco. The other brunette had woken up at some point too, but she remained sullenly silent and apathetic to the conversation.

Each of us drifted onto an uncovered bed, where we were unceremoniously dropped the last few inches with a soft thud. Then Goodwitch began to rub the bridge of her nose in irritation.

"Miss Scarlatina, I realize you do not often find yourself in such trouble, but while the faculty are sympathetic to our students and willing to allow certain things to pass," she stopped to glance at me at this, before returning to face Velvet.

"We cannot, in good faith, allow an event that results in such damage to the school to go without inquiry. And as minors, we are required to inform your legal guardians when opening such an inquiry." She finished. I groaned. I wasn't too worried about being in trouble - there were dozens of witnesses that could attest to my repeated requests for Coco to stop. But the fact remained that even if I squeezed by unpunished, I was going to have to deal with my parents.

I tried to look surreptitiously at Velvet and Coco, gauging their reactions to the news. Velvet's ears were drooping almost comically, and her face was set in a carefully neutral expression with the only sign of her displeasure being the occasional downward curl of her lips. Coco was... actually Coco was doing the same thing as me, only instead of gauging my reaction she mostly just seemed like she was trying to kill me with her mind.

So no allies there then.

When no one had anything to say to her statement Goodwitch sighed and then said;

"Now. I trust you will remain here overnight. If there is another incident while the first one is pending you will _all_ be expelled."

Her piece said, she spun on her heel and marched out. An image of military precision that was ruined by her messy golden hair bouncing along behind her, and her little white rabbit slippers scraping along the ground as she left.

I sat in complete silence, ignoring the curious looks from Velvet and the angry glares from Coco.

'On a scale from one to ten how do you rate the situation?' I asked Archer, genuinely unsure what to do. I didn't want to leave school. I didn't want my parents to show up and yank the rug out from under me. I had friends here. Heck, I had a _responsibility_ to be here. Caster had made it clear to me that not every participant in the war was going to play nice. Innocent people were going to get hurt, and it was only going to get worse the longer the war lasted.

'Well I'm pretty sure the Emerald Forest has enough wildlife to live off of. Good place to hide too.' My Servant answered with a shrug.

'So eleven then.' I sighed.

"Hey Blondie. We're talking to you over here." Coco's acerbic voice cut through my thoughts. Thinking on it, she had probably been trying to get my attention for a little while now, but I had been too focused on my problems and getting Archers opinion to notice. Of course, I also just plain didn't like Coco, so it wouldn't surprise me to find I had just filtered her out as unimportant since it wasn't like she was actively attacking me.

"Oh _now_ you want to talk." I snapped, frowning at her. To her credit, she had the good graces to look embarrassed - for all of one second. Then she scowled at me like I was her mortal enemy. Which was a sentiment I was quickly growing to agree with.

"Well if _someone_ wasn't waging a secret war on our bounded fields -" she barked angrily.

"Those were _yours?_ You had your Servant try to kill me!" I complained, standing up and pointing an accusatory finger at her.

"They were _ours,_ and we were just doing what the book said! 'A good Magus defends their workshop.' " she said, standing to jab a finger into my chest. It stung my bruised ribs and inflamed my already substantial anger. A good Magus? _A good Magus?_ That was just insulting. Velvet I could accept being weaker than, but Coco? Yeah, like I needed the girl that had cast all of no spells and just shot at me for a solid minute to comment on my skills as a practitioner.

"Did this book of yours also include a page on _murdering_ people!? This is a school not a private laboratory! Were you just going to kill any Magus that set foot on campus?!" I said, voice growing louder as I went. I lowered my head to look the shorter girl dead in the eye.

"As a matter of fact the answer to both questions is yes!" Coco growled. I was momentarily taken back by the bold declaration, before the shock morphed in to disgust.

"I see you left Ozpin alone." I whipped out, and was gratified when Coco blinked in confusion and surprise, the anger falling off her face.

"Oz...pin...?" She squinted at me before the rage returned and she lunged forward, headbutting me and leaving us growling incoherently into each others faces for a ten count.

"Um." Velvet mumbled, distracting us enough that we both spun to face her at once, eyes alight with indignation and rage.

The timid Faunus girl was holding a leather bound journal up in front of her, its cover clearly worn with age. On its front, in neat gold lettering were the words 'A Treatise on Prana Manipulation' followed by two smaller lines of text I couldn't make out from where I was standing. The little bag she kept on her at all times was at her side, its top open and the contents clearly having been just rifled through. It didn't escape my notice that at least one of the objects in the bag looked like a bottle of blood.

"You had a freaking manual the whole time?" I yelped in abject horror.

"Well..." Velvet said, trailing off.

"Of course we did you hulking idiot. What moron would activate their circuits without guidance and then blindly stumble about manipulating their very life energy?" Coco jumped in sticking her chest out proudly and somehow managing to look smugly down at me despite our difference in height.

"The kind that beat you with one spell!" I snapped at her. Sure my early forays into Magecraft had been haphazard and dangerous at best, but I had a teacher and that was more than these two could say. A teacher who forgot to teach me half of the safety precautions and admitted to be a horrible Magus but...

"You... wait. You genuinely had no idea what you were doing? Ha...haha...hahahahaha!" She crowed, beginning to laugh at me so hard that tears began to appear in her eyes.

"We found it in the library behind some old maps in our first year." Velvet admitted sheepishly. She ignored the mocking laughter of her team mate, but was wincing and deliberately wouldn't look at Coco while she spoke.

"That's so unfair! And you can shut up I _still_ beat you!" I complained. No wonder Velvet was destroying me when we fought. Even if she'd only been practicing reinforcement that whole time - which she clearly hadn't - she'd probably still be good enough to obliterate me in a straight fight.

A thought occurred to me and I paused. Pointing at the little book.

"Seriously though, you were willing to kill me over something in a book?" I asked.

"No!" Velvet refuted instantly.

"I just wanted Assassin to fight your Servant! He said you'd kill me in my sleep!" She explained, turning a bright red.

"Of course he'd think that, it's what _he_ would do! He's _Assassin."_ I decried. Velvet seemed to predict that answer because she had already opened her book and flipped it to a page with a diagram and some text on it.

Wordlessly, she turned the book over to me, and I took it, glancing down at the page in curiosity. At first I couldn't tell what I was looking at. The picture looked like a single man on his knees, with a network of string coming out of his back in an almost wing like pattern. My eyes panned to the wall of text on its left, and I began to read out loud.

"The nervous system can be made to function as an addendum or a replacement for proper Magic Circuits. However the process is extremely risky, and potentially lethal. You can subvert many of these risks by removing much of someones nerves and... turning them into... a living... battery..." I slowed in my narration, my gaze flicking back to the diagram with a newfound horror.

I began to skim the book. Page after page went by, the world around me falling away as my thoughts began to race. Whoever wrote this book was either extremely thorough about their theoretical research - or a monster akin to Caster. Oh, the whole book wasn't about gruesome torture - it really _was a_ huge list of ways to move prana around - but that didn't mean much in the face of how painful some of this looked. I skimmed past some information on dust, spent a moment to read about the use of blood, and entirely passed over the litany of ways to mutilate the human body. Towards the end of the book there was a sizeable section on something called a Tantric Ritual, and I got about three pages in before realizing it was about sex, and that the pages were _heavily_ earmarked.

A hand shot out and closed the book in my lap, and I looked up to see Coco standing in front of me, no longer laughing. She was looking down on me with a haughty, smug expression that did nothing to hide the faint blush on her face. She must have realized what section I was reading because she - for once - didn't say anything to me. I glanced between her and Velvet both of them blushing furiously and couldn't help but start _imagining_ it as the implications set in.

Velvet started to reach for the book, closed and in my lap, and I shifted slightly away from her.

"Best uh... best to just leave that there for a minute." I gingerly said. Velvet's hand recoiled away from the book so fast she must have been using reinforcement.

"S-sorry." She offered lamely and I shrugged, too embarrassed to open my mouth lest something even worse spill forth from my addled mind.

"Virgin." Snickered Coco, though she wouldn't meet my eyes.

'It's like your awkward first time, only it's just the bad parts and none of the pay off.' Archer chortled in the back of my head.

In my quest to look literally anywhere but at Velvet or Coco, my eyes fell on the cover of the book in my lap. I was closer now, and could make out the black lettering under the title.

 _A Treatise On Prana Manipulation_

 _By Juniper Arc & Nicholas Flamel_

I felt my eye begin to twitch, and the tension in the room ratchet up a level. My mind skipped back a step to the Tantric Ritual pages, and all the aged notes scribbled in the margins. Then even further, to my observations on the clearly amoral nature of the writers. Suddenly I felt sick, and all but flung the book at Velvet so I could scamper to the garbage can.

"Oh don't be such a baby." Coco called after me.

"Shut up." I croaked between hacking coughs.

"You don't understand - that, that book. It was written by my Mom and Dad."

There was a silence followed by Coco's amused drawl

"Your dads a lucky man then. Your mom left some notes on how you can use your - " Coco began, clearly intent on torturing me, apparently assuming the reason for my sudden disgust was because she thought I had imagined my mother having sex. That part had thrown me, and it certainly would have ruined my day on just about any other occasion.

But the real reason I was sick to my stomach was because the more I thought about it, the more I began to hear the lines about gruesome mutilation in my moms chipper but commanding voice.

Coco continued to list bits of advice my mother had apparently left in the book, causing Velvet to turn redder and redder with each passing moment. Archer remained silent, simply appearing next to me, unable to do much more than reassure me with his presence. I think at some point he tried to say something to me, but I barely listened. I just stayed at the garbage can.

The rest of the night went by in a blur, and I'm not ashamed to say I didn't get any sleep. Coco continued to needle me, and Velvet did her best to mitigate her... girlfriend? fuck buddy? magical partner in crime? But really I had neither the time or energy to think about them. I retreated to a corner of the room and conferred with Archer.

'What do we do?' I asked, well past the point of panic. I had reached a sort of frantic zen state where I was desensitized to bad things happening. The school could have exploded around me at that moment and I would have just taken it at face value. Not because I didn't care but because I was now actively expecting everything bad that _could_ happen _to_ happen. There was a detachment in that feeling, a degree of distance between me and everything going on around me that simultaneously made it really easy not to care, while also being the only possible way I was going to find a solution to my problems.

Yeesh and Archer just lived his whole life like this. What a nightmare.

'Holding pattern.' Archer said after a moment of thought.

'We know you're Mom is a Magus. Probably you're Dad too. We know they're almost definitely going to come for you at some point, but we don't know when. Probably not for a while though so -' Archer mused aloud.

'Ansel is like a day away by train. They'll be here by tomorrow night tops.' I supplied, not sure how he had forgotten this already.

'Yeah but Jaune, in the month I spent at your house with you, they didn't come home once. I only really got a decent look at your Dad when we were leaving on the very last night. Chances are good they're out on a mission, no where near civilization right now. It will take a while for them to get back, let alone for someone to actually contact them.' Archer answered sternly.

'...huh. Never thought having bad parents would finally work for me.' I said. I had been trying for levity, but even I could tell the words had come out sounding more bitter than anything else.

'Buck up kid. Long as I'm here there are really only six other people that can truly hurt you.' Archer chuckled. I just gave him a flat unconvinced stare.

'Far as I can tell, Remnant doesn't have any of the threats I'd usually associate with true danger. No Dead Apostle Ancestors, no ORT, the moon is half blown up so your safe on that front...' he trailed off with a shrug.

'You know, I believe you but do you have to sound so _strained_ when you try to comfort me?' I answered weakly. He gave me an annoyed glare but couldn't deny my point. Even though he was clearly trying to make me feel better, he was obviously terrible at it. It was like he was constantly resisting the urge to shrug, tell me to nut up or shut up, and then vanish.

I chose to take it as a sign of our growing friendship that he didn't do any of that, even though he obviously wanted to. I couldn't blame him really. He had been pretty honest about what lengths some Magi would go to, and it was plain to see that he wasn't all that surprised by the contents of Velvet's book.

'Believe it or not, this is still pretty tame for a Grail War.' Archer said after a moment.

'That _doesn't_ make me feel better.' I answered, eyeing Coco and Velvet across the room. The two had put their heads together and were whispered something I couldn't quite make out. If I was lucky, I mean _really_ lucky, they were trying to come up with terms for an alliance. After a pregnant pause I asked;

'Hey... do we have to win the war? I mean if all the Servants just agree to stop-' I put forth hopefully. Honestly, I was having a hard time seeing most of the Masters and Servants I encountered as _bad guys_. Obviously Assassin was nuts, and Caster was villain if I'd ever seen one, but Rider, Saber and Archer all seemed like fairly reasonable, if not necessarily _nice_ people. If we could all just agree not to kill one another then -

'Seven more are summoned and everything goes to shit. It's been done.' Archer said bluntly.

'...Oh.' Was all I could really say in response. Despite the bleakness of the conversation talking to Archer was just... calming. Like his sheer unflappability was contagious. I wasn't stupid enough to think he'd be able to bail me out of every possible problem that could come up, that would just be naive. But the lonely man in red somehow felt more like family than any of my actual sisters at times like these.

'Hey Archer?' I said finally.

'Mmm?' The white haired man replied, his eyes now narrowed and trained on Coco and Velvet.

'Thanks. For being here and all.' I said. Archer jerked like I had slapped him, spinning from his stoic standing position to pin me with an annoyed glare. We locked eyes for a moment, and despite the severity of my present situation, I slowly raised a hand into the air, and marked a tally on the board.

'You little -' Archer snapped his hands stretching out in a strangling motion before he was cut off by the door opening, and Ozpin stepping inside. He looked haggard, like he hadn't had any sleep in a while. Dark bags were under his eyes, and the usually bland expression he maintained was tainted by the slight downturn of his lips, the very beginnings of a frown.

"Jaune. I'd like to see you in my office. Miss Goodwitch will be handling Miss Adel and Miss Velvetina." He said sternly. And I do mean sternly. Which was pretty creepy given how apathetic the man usually sounded.

"Uh..." I said, looking around the room. Coco and Velvet had retreated a step to stare with wide eyed panic at Ozpin, and Archer was watching the older man like he would a poisonous snake. I wondered why Coco and Velvet were so distressed when they hadn't seemed all that bothered by their punishment prior to this. Then I remembered. This would be the first time they would have met Ozpin after being told he was a Magus. And given their - possibly justifiable - fear of other Magi, it didn't take a genius to figure out that they probably now viewed the entire school as enemy territory.

" ." Ozpin said again, more forcefully this time when I didn't immediately jump up to follow him. I winced, and this time complied, lurching up and trailing behind him as he spun on one heel and sped up the halls.

It didn't take long for us to reach the elevator up to Ozpin's office, and the moment the doors shut behind us, the aging man sagged, like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"I apologize for how brusque I might have seemed Jaune. The last few days have been... trying." He said with a sigh and a sip of coffee.

"I can understand that sir. With everything that happened at the Forever Falls, there must have been a lot of fallout." I said, sympathetic if nothing else. Ozpin and I weren't friends. In fact, I was less inclined to trust him now than I was before I had found out he was a Magus and all that entailed. Before I might have simply believed him my Headmaster, the man responsible for raising generations of Hunters. In another life I might have taken his word as gospel. But now...

"Hmm? Yes I suppose that was something of a headache as well." He mused.

"Was there... something _else_ happening?" I asked cautiously. I didn't really want to know what would bother Ozpin so much that he would consider the Forever Falls incident a mere 'headache', but I had a feeling I was going to find out. Before he had the chance to further elaborate, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal Ozpin's office. It was a spartan affair. A single desk, some chairs, and walls lined with bookshelves. It wouldn't have been all that outstanding - the view from the top of the tower aside - except for the two people already present in the room.

"Get the hell off me you crazy bitch!" A man in dirty black jeans and wearing a disheveled grey shirt cried out. He had black hair, styled back with what looked like _way_ too much gel, and the top three buttons of his shirt were haphazardly undone. He was leaning back on Ozpin's desk, though not by choice it seemed. In front of him was a tan skinned woman with brown hair that had turquoise tips. She was wearing a black kimono with a fire pattern sewn into it, and had one knee pressed firmly between the mans legs, pressing him back. One of her hands was roaming carelessly under his shirt while the other was pulling at a fistful of red fabric that had been wrapped around the mans throat, but that looked like it was actually supposed to be a cape.

"But beloved, we have yet to seal our vows! Yet to even _kiss!_ " The woman cried in outrage, pulling more strongly on the cape, while the man, who had a single hand underneath the strangling implement and was desperately trying to keep it from choking him strained to hold her back. Not that it did him any good. He was practically shaking with effort, but she was no more inconvenienced than she would have been fighting with a puppy.

"Amber I swear to god, I don't know what the hell is wrong with you, but we are _not_ in a relationship!" The man screeched, his free hand causing parts of the desk to splinter where he pushed against it.

"You saved this life and now you have to take responsibility for it! I'm trying to be _gentle!_ " The woman all but yelled in his face.

"Ahem." Ozpin faux coughed, drawing both the man and woman's attention. The man turned his gaze on us with a look halfway between relief and hatred, but the woman... the woman looked at us and for a moment I got the distinct impression I wasn't looking at a human being. Her eyes were golden with slit pupils, and the manic grin she bore was somewhere between insane and predatory. There wasn't really any expression at all on her face when she saw Ozpin and I beyond that. Her eyes darted across both of us, before returning to the man she was presently strangling, and then sighed.

"Apologies beloved. It would be inappropriate for anyone to be witness to our consummation." she pouted, before releasing the man and stepping back. He staggered forward with a ragged gasp, untangling the cape from around his throat and rubbing at it gingerly.

"Ozpin." he growled after a few moments, grabbing one of the chairs by the desk and falling into it as though he hadn't just been strangled half to death for a kiss.

"Qrow." Ozpin answered, stepping forward and around the desk so he could take a seat. I just stayed by the elevator, shuffling about and unsure of what to do next. I _really_ didn't want to go anywhere near that woman. Said woman was standing a half step behind the chair Qrow was in, watching her cranky possibly lover through half lidded eyes and completely ignoring Ozpin and I.

"Well? You just gonna stand there kid? I haven't slept in two days, so I gotta say, I'm not feeling super patient right now." Qrow growled, waving me forward.

I took a few tentative steps forward, before making it within arms reach of the woman - Amber - when her gaze shot up to me. Her eyes looked more normal now but there was still something decidedly alien about her. Something that screamed apex predator. I gulped once, then nervously walked in a circle around her to reach my seat, watching her the whole time. She just smiled knowingly at me before turning her gaze back on Qrow.

"Well that's not creepy at all..." I mumbled, and Qrow shrugged. It wasn't a shrug that said he disagreed with me, or one that said 'what can you do?' it was a shrug of _resignation_. That single motion told me everything I needed to know about how Qrow felt about his present situation.

"So, Jaune, I'm sure you're wondering why I've called you here." Ozpin began.

"Because you need another errand boy to bite the bullet for you probably." grumbled Qrow, heedless of whether he was interrupting or not.

"...be that as it may. Jaune, I need you to go with Qrow for a few days. I realize you are not a fully licensed Hunter, but I am willing to allow this to count as work experience. An apprenticeship of sorts." Ozpin continued, gliding past Qrow's comment. I guessed this wasn't a new conversation for the two given the familiarity with which they spoke.

"That... doesn't really explain why you need _me_." I said shooting a surreptitious glance at the woman. I also didn't want to be anywhere near this guy if he was going to have whatever the hell _she_ was following him around day and night.

"This is a mission of a somewhat more mystical nature. Qrow is also a Magus, but his theoretical knowledge is somewhat lacking, and I am presently unable to leave Beacon." Ozpin admitted without plainly, setting his mug down on the table with a shrug.

"Juniper's kid huh? Makes sense." Qrow conceded.

"You knew my Mom?" I asked hesitantly.

"Oh yeah. I don't there was a male in our age group who didn't-" Qrow paused when the woman gently laid her hands on his shoulders. He tilted his head back to look at her, only to find her smiling down at him, with her brows furrowed.

"- also... go to school here..." he finished lamely, and I shivered at the Amber's nod of approval. She didn't, I noticed, remove her hands from his shoulders though.

"If you're quite done?" Ozpin added, tapping a finger on the desk gently to draw our attention back to him.

"I don't know if I wanna get involved in anything too crazy after the Falls sir." I said honestly. And it was true. I needed a damn break. Some freaking down time. Maybe take a day off to paint my shield or get someone to build a mechashift into it.

"Are you sure about that? I'm given to understand you were quite adamant that no one call your parents over last nights events." Ozpin prodded and I froze. Was he...?

"Really Oz? Threatening a kid now?" Qrow drawled disapprovingly.

"No wait. Can you... can you make it so they don't get brought in?" I asked tentatively.

"I could." The grey haired man admitted, now drumming his fingers on the desk faster and faster.

"What about school? I can't just disappear..." I tried again, hoping I could squeak by without having to commit. I should have probably tried an excuse that didn't involve school when dealing with the guy who ran the school, but I just couldn't think of anything else.

"That should be no problem. Officially, you will be suspended for the duration of the mission, Ansel is close enough that it could be believed that you have traveled there." Ozpin stated, pulling a sheaf of papers from his desk and push them across the wooden expanse to me.

"Just sign there and you're punishment can begin."

I stared at the paperwork, not really taking in what it said. Did I really have a choice? I mean, my parents could probably take me from here but... they wouldn't _kill me_ like another Servant would... right?

"What about Servants? If we run into something like Caster again we're all going to die." I tried again.

"As though I would ever allow anyone to separate my beloved and I." Amber suddenly spoke up, snorting derisively.

"I might not be a match for every Servant in the war, but their Master's will burn all the same." she continued, turning her reptilian gaze on me in a chilling approximation of a comforting smile.

"I assure you, I had planned to hunt and kill every other Master in this war regardless. You have nothing to fear from such scum."

'Scale of one to ten?' I asked Archer over our link, gulping to cover the sudden terror I felt in my gut.

'Twelve.' The white haired servant answered, appearing beside me for but the barest of moments before Amber vanished, appearing in the space he was about to materialize in. The golden particles dispersed and I felt Archer flee the room in a panic. Amber sniffed the air like a dog, and squinted at the space behind me in annoyance before gliding gently back to her position beside Qrow.

'Nevermind. There is no unit of measurement we could reasonably use here.' Archer chimed in from wherever the hell he had fled to.

Great. Just... Great.

 **-ooo-**

 **So I hurt my wrist last week, just to compound my tendon strain, and writing is** ** _really hard_** **for me right now. Update speed has obviously slowed down as a result, but I'm gonna try and stick with it, even if I have to type one handed or like a grandma one key at a time.**

 **Some things with Amber here, or rather, Kiyohime!Amber - She's insanely powerful. Basically a Servant with an infinite mana battery in the form of the body she stole, the fact that she's Berserker, and also the Spring Maiden - which itself is a whole other slew of powers and mana resources. I won't say she's the big bad of the fic because she's not, but I will say that I think there has to be some trade off for how unstable and hard to control a Berserker usually is.**

 **In other news, I'm super annoyed by this hurt wrist deal because I was going to dump a handful of new story ideas at once just to gauge interest, and I wanted to take the time to keep trucking away on this fic. I watched Spiderverse the other day and am in a Marvel mood so the next thing from my is probably going to be another chapter of For Someone's Glory - probably on the weekend, assuming my painkillers hold for that long. I was also considering adding a bit to the end of my chapters where I answer questions in the reviews but to be honest I find that pretty annoying when** ** _other_** **writers do it so I'm kind of on the fence about it.**

 **I also understand that I might have picked up the pace plot wise in recent chapters, and not everyone is happy with that. I get that, and do want to sort of slow things back down again, but have to admit that I do have certain story beats I need/want to hit to keep things moving along. This next bit, in addition to the bit at the Forever Falls is pretty much where the major divergence from RWBY canon occurs timeline wise. The White Fang obviously aren't the big evil anymore because Saber is running them, Torchwick isn't afraid of Cinder because he has Saber backing him up, and in lieu of them we have Casters army of anti-aura dolls. We'll see how that works out.**

 **Anywho, that's all from me, and as always**

 _ **Thanks for reading.**_


	21. A Feckless Oversight

"And you're sure we have to walk all the way around." I asked for the tenth time, more than a little peeved over my present situation. I didn't really mind having to come help him with... actually I still didn't know what I was helping him with. Ozpin had really just given me the vague order to assist him with something Magecraft related and then dismissed us from his office.

"Yes." Qrow replied flatly, continuing to walk blithely forward through the forested area just outside Vales city limits.

But regardless, I didn't really _mind_ going out with another Magus for some field experience. No, the problem was -

 **"HOW DARE YOU!?"** came the enraged scream of a woman somewhere to our left. I ignored it, just as I had ignored it the last several times it had happened. The words changed, but the results did not. There was a flash of heat, and a solitary moment in time where a fairly vast swathe of the forest was on fire, and then suddenly it wasn't anymore. Mostly because there was no more forest left. If someone wanted to, they could probably follow our trail just by getting a decent aerial view and following the circular zones of death Amber left in our wake.

"But _why?_ We're literally going in the opposite direction of Mountain Glenn. This is going to take days." I complained, and though I didn't explicitly say it, Qrow and I both knew that my complaint wasn't so much with the journey as the constant outbursts said journey was creating. The first time Grimm had leapt up out of the forest at us, I had raised my shield and diligently prepared myself for a fight. Not a very _hard_ fight given that it was just a couple of Beowolves, but still. Unfortunately for me, this was apparently the first time Amber had been out of the city with Qrow, and the sight of something attacking her 'beloved' was more than enough to set the... whatever she was off. It had been several hours now, about half a day into the trip, and both Qrow and I had pretty much given up on wariness. Oh to be sure _I_ had taken significantly longer to calm down - owing largely to the fact that I was scared the angry woman was going to obliterate me where I stood, but after the third ground shattering explosion Anxiety had given up at the controls and quickly switched with Annoyance.

Qrow paused mid-step then turned to regard me pensively.

"Can't go in from the front. Definitely not on a bullhead. Too easy to detect." He said after a moment of consideration, then shrugged.

"Yeah about that - _what_ exactly is going to detect us?" I said in exasperation, adding afterward under my breath "And why do I have to come..."

"Beats me. That's why we're going." Qrow said again with another shrug, palming his hip flask and taking a swig before offering it to me. The unpleasant smell of strong alcohol practically burned my nose hairs as it wafted up from the open container, and I took a step back gagging.

"Wha- You know I'm underage still right?" I complained, coughing and waving the stench away from myself.

"You're on an undocumented mission with another Magus to spy on and or kill someone else. I just thought you might wanna try it before you died." Qrow said nonchalantly downing the rest of the flask and then closing it and replacing it on his hip.

'I like him. He gets it.' Archer chimed in from about a kilometer away. It was a distance I was confident he could travel quickly to reach me in an emergency, but far enough away that Amber didn't detect him. Something I didn't think and still had a hard time believing was even possible in the first place.

'He's a fatalistic alcoholic with a bad attitude. Of course you like him, he's just _you_ but _drunk_ ' I retorted.

'Yeah but if he's like me at least you know he's good at surviving. You can probably trust him to complete his mission if nothing else. He won't betray you.' Archer said with the mental equivalent of an eye roll.

'You realize I know enough about you for that to be absolutely no comfort right?' I thought back dryly, and then was dragged from my rapid fire conversation with Archer when Amber sashayed back into view. She was an attractive woman I'd give her that. Once I had been around her long enough to tamp down on the absolute terror she inspired in me, it had dawned on me that regardless of how she sounded like an over enthused teenager with a crush most of the time, her every movement was elegant and refined. The differences between how she spoke and acted were so vast that pretty much the only times they lined up were when she was attacking something. If I didn't know any better I'd swear I was watching two people at once, but that just didn't make any sense.

"Darling~ you know I don't like it when you drink." Amber pouted as she drew even with Qrow, who closed his eyes as if in prayer, then returned to walking forward as if she hadn't spoken to him at all.

"Aww don't be so cold! Your darling wife is doing her best!" Amber whined, chasing after him. I sighed and jogged forward to catch up.

"We. Are Not. Married." Qrow ground out through gritted teeth.

"Yet~" came Amber's sing song voice.

" _Ever._ " Growled Qrow causing Amber to stop in her tracks. Foreseeing the need to defend myself, I pointedly turned and walked around the volatile woman.

"Darling~" cooed Amber, the temperature around her slowly rising until waves and distortions began to appear in the air.

"You said I could have 'Whatever I wanted' if I let you leave our nice, cozy, love nest to take this silly mission." She continued, voice as sweet as cotton candy. Quicker than I could follow she vanished, reappearing in front of Qrow with one hand gently cupping his chin and forcing the taciturn drunk to stop his forward motion. Qrow's aura flashed as the extreme heat began to bear down on him, and his brows pinched together into a tent shape on his forehead.

"I thought you just wanted to fu-" Qrow started indignantly with sweat slowly beginning to bead and slide down his face.

"I said I wanted to _consummate_ our _union_." Amber said in a matter of fact tone that stated in no uncertain terms that she wasn't going to accept any misinterpretation of her meaning. Qrow looked like he was going to try to argue anyway, but a tightening of Amber's hands on his face and the spontaneous combustion of a nearby tree nipped that in the bud.

"...Fine." Qrow rasped through clenched teeth.

Her grip tightened.

"Fine... Dear?" Qrow tried, and a huge smile spread itself over Ambers face. The oppressive heat vanished without a trace, and the nearby burning trees snuffed out like candles on a birthday cake.

"Oooh darling!" She cried joyously, lunging at Qrow and dragging him into a hug that involved a little too much groping and rubbing on her part to be entirely chaste.

"I know it _hurts_ to have these little spats, but every problem we overcome just makes our relationship stronger!" She crooned. At this point I was awkwardly looking away, having moved as far from Amber as I could without vanishing into the woods. I could already see where this was going, and as much as it terrified me to do so I had found I had a very specific niche on this mission.

I had to cockblock Amber.

"AHEM." I coughed, then stepped forward and tried again when I was summarily ignored.

"AHEM!" At this, Ambers head shot up, her eyes slitted and golden as they landed on me. There was an alien sort of intelligence in that look. A kind of calculated consideration that a human might get when looking down on an anthill. Sure you could obliterate the anthill easily enough, but why?

"My apologies Nuisance. I had forgotten you were present." She said, blinking once and revealing her eyes in their usual, not slitted state. Then she separated herself from Qrow, trailing a finger delicately over his jaw. She moved back until she was standing demurely next to the older man then quirked her head to the side as if in thought.

"Why _is_ he here?" She asked Qrow with a hint of petulance in her voice.

"Because Oz said so." Qrow said stonily, rubbing at his neck and massaging his temples.

"Actually I wanted to ask the same thing." I chimed in.

"He said it's because I know more Magecraft than you but I find that hard to believe." I continued, gesturing at the grey stripe in his hair to emphasize my point. Qrow was a grown man, who presumably had been learning Magecraft from Ozpin for sometime. I had been at it for less than a year, and I had been mostly making it up as I went.

Qrow wrinkled his nose qt my insinuation that he was 'old' then turned to continue our trek through the woods, beckoning me next to him. Of course, 'next to him' was a position I had quickly learned was reserved exclusively for Amber, so instead I took up position three steps behind him with Amber standing sanguinely between us.

Qrow rolled his eyes at the biplay but otherwise let it pass without comment.

"Listen, Magecraft can be easy or it can be hard." He began after a second to gather his thoughts.

"The hard way, that's the way you do it, requires knowledge. Understanding. It takes years of learning and practice. It produces excellent Magi - eventually. Unfortunately, it isn't very _fast_." I stared at him for a second, waiting for him to continue.

"The easy way only requires three things. Circuits, good Prana control, and a Semblance. This type of Magecraft is good for training fighters quickly, but it leaves us mostly useless for anything but fighting." Qrow said, finishing his explanation and looking at me expectantly.

'The hell?' I asked Archer in dismay. Granted I had no idea what my Semblance was, so the 'easy' way wouldn't have worked for me. But still.

'You heard 'easy' and ignored everything else huh?' Archer answered with a mental snort of disdain.

'Good for training fighters quickly is a nice way to describe a training method for easily sacrificed shock troops. The training has to be fast because you _expect_ there to be turnover." He explained, and I cringed inwardly.

"So you're the latter I guess?" I asked Qrow tentatively.

"Exactly. Point me at something and I'll kill it. Ask me to examine or pull apart something delicate though..." he trailed off.

"Which is why I'm here..." I said, realization dawning on me. There was just one problem. I wasn't nearly as well trained as Ozpin obviously thought I was. I was still firmly in the class of 'Amateur' and it showed. I gulped nervously.

"And we might be going up against another Magus. On his home turf. Where he's had who knows how long to prepare." I thought aloud.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure Oz wouldn't send you on a suicide mission. Your mom would kill us all." Qrow opined, causing Amber to stiffen then eye me speculatively.

"She would _try."_ she mumbled darkly, sending a chill down my spine.

'Archer, how did we get here? Did I do something to offend God do you think?' I asked blandly.

'Well Jaune, I imagine it all started when you were born...' Archer began, launching into a long winded exaggeration of what a mistake I was. It was oddly comforting, and before long I began to wonder what my friends were doing. With me gone things should be pretty quiet on the home front. Caster was probably still licking his wounds, Assassins Master was kind of sort of neutral, and Rider should be able to protect Pyrrha from anything unforeseen.

So at least nothing momentous should occur while I was out here with Gruncle Qrow and his nutjob paramour.

Silver linings and all that.

-ooo-

"Suspended." I stated flatly, squinting suspiciously at Pyrrha as she informed me and the rest of Team RWBY about what had apparently happened last night. To her credit, she had the good grace to be cowed by my annoyance, a state of affairs I wished could extend to _all_ of my interactions with the woman.

Alas, the life of a Schnee is never easy. It's the burden we bear in order to maintain our greatness.

"Yes. Miss Goodwitch said he was sent home to Ansel for the duration." Pyrrha commented, worrying at her bottom lip nervously. It was a terrible habit that a savvy political enemy could take advantage of, and I filed it away for a later date. I could, of course, just point the problem out to her, but as the only other student of decent upbringing at the school, something about Pyrrha just left me feeling... competitive.

"Did she say _why_ he was suspended?" I asked pointedly, fishing for information. It didn't make sense for the school to send a student like Jaune off by himself after an event like what had occurred at the Forever Falls. If anything Ozpin should have been keeping the school locked down as tight as possible.

"Yes _Weiss_ , she absolutely deigned to explain the full, private, details of another students situation to me. Very professional of her." Pyrrha bit back. Ren, Nora, Yang, and Ruby - who had been sitting nearby at our shared table in the cafeteria winced and shifted slightly away from the redhead. It wasn't surprising to me in the least. Despite her sweet outward demeanor, Pyrrha and I had never quite gotten along. I had no idea why.

"Well maybe if you paid more attention to the rumors going around you might have heard." I said smugly. Eliciting a very unladylike grunt from the championship prize fighter.

So maybe I had a _tiny_ inkling why we didn't get along.

"Ah, what exactly have you heard." Ren said slowly, inserting himself into the conversation with all the diplomatic skill of a rhinoceros.

"Well it seems that some second years got into a fight and tore apart a classroom and its adjacent training room last night." I said, waving a hand airily towards the largest grouping of older students I could locate.

"Presumably Jaune bit off more than he could chew and had to do his whole 'scorched earth' thing." I added dismissively. The idea that Jaune could lose a fight against a normal Hunter with no knowledge of Magecraft was about as alien to me as pigs flying. Entirely unworth considering. The fact that Pyrrha could likely still run roughshod over both of us at once no withstanding.

"Wait. Did the second years get suspended too? My dad told me lots of stories about Beacon, and he got away with _way_ worse before he ever got in trouble." Yang said rapping her knuckles on the table irritably.

"That _is_ the question isn't it? Of course there is an easy way to answer it..." I said coolly, taking a secret joy in the way my friends leaned forward to listen to me as though I was about to divulge the secrets of the universe to them. I had long since stopped trying to classify and manipulate them - it had become abundantly clear to me that normal people didn't look kindly on such things. But still there was a kind of catharsis in applying myself in the leadership and planning role I had been raised from birth to take on.

I was so focused on drawing out the moment of suspense that it caught me completely by surprise when Blake dropped into a seat next to me, practically vibrating with nervous energy. I glanced at her askance for a moment before returning to my declaration.

"All we need to do is-" I began but was swiftly cutoff.

"Does anyone know where Jaune is?" Blake piped up, drawing the eyes of everyone present.

"We were just discussing that same topic." Pyrrha answered for the group, her eyes darting to me and then back to Blake with the barest hint of mirth present in them.

"Oh. So where is he?" Blake said, clearly missing the concerned way everyone at the table was now looking at her. She had been somewhat put of contact in recent days. Disappearing off to the city after class before anyone could catch up with her. If I was being honest I had just assumed she had found a boyfriend. Thats what normal girls our age did right? Date? But the haggard and sleep deprived look the raven haired girl was sporting put that conclusion into question.

Of course, if the reason she looked like this _was_ a boyfriend he could probably expect a visit from a security team tonight...

"He got suspended..." Ruby answered carefully, her eyes searching Blakes face for something.

"Dammit!" Blake growled, her fists slamming in to the table.

"Wanna share with the class?" Yang asked curiously, no doubt trying to inject some levity into the situation.

"I can't - you wouldn't understand." She said, quickly amending her statement and moving to stand up.

"Blake." I said in exasperation, quickly raising a glyph beneath her to freeze her feet to the ground and then tugging her back in to her seat when she nearly fell.

"Believe it or not, we _do_ consider ourselves your friends. Tell us whats wrong." I told her gently. My head tilted towards the ice holding her to the ground making the 'or else' part of the statement silent but obvious.

"I..." she said before gulping, her face screwing up like she'd just swallowed something foul.

"Faunus are disappearing off the streets. Mostly the homeless. The news says its the Whitefang and -" Blake blurted, her face becoming redder and redder with each word as anger began to take over. It was commendable that she was concerned about all those innocents. Unfortunately her intended target was wrong, much as I hated to admit it.

"It wasn't. The Whitefang, I mean." I interrupted her, and had to suppress a guffaw as Blake sputtered to a stop mid sentence.

"You- They- What!?" She blurted out.

"Remember when Jaune got captured? Pyrrha and I sort of... snuck in to the rescue mission." I whispered, leaning in and flicking my wrist under the table to create glyph that would block outside listeners.

"What does that have to do with-" She said, but I cut her off again, continuing as if she had never spoken.

"When we arrived, the Whitefang was already there, trying to free all the kidnapped Faunus. Only Jaune really knows the details, but I gather there was a lunatic he called 'Caster' experimenting on them." I explained, glazing over anything that would force me to explain what Caster actually was.

Blake's facial expression, usually bored, dour or both, cycled rapidly from elated, to annoyed to determined.

"And he's suspended?" She questioned quickly, darting a look to Pyrrha for confirmation, much to my annoyance.

"Yes. He's been sent home to Ansel apparently." Pyrrha said with a nod.

"Then I'm going to Ansel." She said plainly, standing up and glaring down at me until I realized she was still frozen to the ground.

"That's-" exactly what I was going to say, was what I tried to blurt out, but was quickly silenced by the voices of everyone at the table trying to speak at once.

"That's perfect!" Ruby yelled shooting up and sticking a triumphant fist in the air.

"We'd get to meet his pareeeents~" Nora added, elbowing Pyrrha in the side.

"The weekend does begin soon." Ren opined, rubbing his chin in thought.

"I wonder if his Dads hot. Like Jaune, but less geeky and more rugged." Yang mused.

In short order, the conversation, and the group, had moved on, leaving me sputtering behind them. Pyrrha had the temerity to send me an apologetic look before rising to follow them.

Suddenly deprived of my reveal, and found myself staring straight ahead as I followed my friends from the room. I didn't know how but this was Jaune's fault, and I was going to have it out of his hide when we got to Ansel.

One way or another.

-ooo-

A chill shot up my spine and I paused momentarily in my prodding of our meager campfire.

"What?" Qrow asked curiously from where he was sitting on a log Amber had dragged out of the woods for him. I made due with sitting cross legged in the dirt. In theory I could have gone to get my own log, or asked Amber to bring me one, but either way I was afraid Amber would take the opportunity to remove me from her list of obstacles preventing her from ravishing Qrow.

"Nothing. Just... got a bad feeling. Like someone was walking over my grave." I admitted. I had gotten a handle on Qrow in the day I'd been forced to accompany him, and against all odds, he actually seemed like he might have a heart somewhere under all the snark and alcoholism.

"Hrm." He grumbled, and then I could feel it - the sudden presence of Prana not my own wafting through the air. Given that my sense of touch was how I interpreted it, it was an extremely weird sensation - like someone dragging a knife across the back of my hand but not actually drawing blood. Sharp, no, _jagged_. That's how Qrow's prana felt.

The older man stared at me for a few seconds before grunting again, and resettling himself on his seat. Amber, who had been standing behind him rubbing his shoulders, allowed an annoyed look to cross her face as her ministrations were interrupted.

"Your fine. Mostly. Bad luck with women." He explained after a second when I just stared blankly at him. As though that explained anything that had just happened.

"...What?" I asked after a second when it looked like he was done.

"Look, my particular brand of Magecraft is based on my semblance - which causes bad luck." Qrow stated, waving a hand in my direction.

"I just used reinforcement on my eyes while applying my semblance and looked you over. Bad luck with chicks. Sorry." He said with a shrug.

"So you can just.. tell when something bad is going to happen? All the time?" I asked incredulously. That sounded way more useful then blowing shit up. Anyone could do that with enough dust. But precognition? That was something else entirely.

"No. I can tell when something bad is going to happen, in a general sense, to people in my field of view while using a single very taxing application of my power." Qrow growled.

"Trust me. I can't see the future." He added with an aggravated look over his shoulder at Amber who just smiled sweetly at him.

"Oh darling. Of course you didn't see me coming. You said it yourself - you can only detect _bad_ things." She said, gently shifting from rubbing his shoulders to massaging his temples.

"...right..." I said, mulling the idea over.

"So... can I learn to do 'easy' Magecraft or am I stuck with what I'm ready doing?" I asked curiously.

"They're not mutually exclusive kid. Ones just easier than the other." Qrow said, his body relaxing under Amber's determined assault on his personal space. I brightened at that.

"Too bad I don't know what my semblance is." I said, with just a hint of complaint in my voice. It's not like I was bitter about the shortcut or anything. Definitely not that.

"Well whats your Origin?" Qrow asked, his eyes now narrowed down to slits.

'Don't answer that.' Archer said sharply before I could get out the obligatory 'what the hell is an Origin and why are you saying it like it has a capital O'.

'Why?' I asked quizzically.

'Your origin informs everything you do. It's easily one of the biggest components in any given form of Magecraft. It dictates what your good at and what your bad at. It's not information you want your enemies to know.' Archer said sternly.

'I don't see how its such a big deal... and Qrow isn't an enemy.' I pointed out.

'Jaune. We don't actually fully trust Ozpin remember? And that's all Qrow is. An extension of Ozpin.' The servant of the bow chided me.

I frowned for a second then carefully said;

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable telling you that." I tried to keep my tone of voice polite and apologetic, but even still I could see the tiny bit of hurt in Qrow's eyes at the answer. Which was weird. Did he just expect kids to trust him for some reason? _Him,_ the rude drunk with a psychopathic superweapon hanging off him?

"Well." He said, coughing awkwardly to clear the sudden silence between us.

"Your semblance is an expression of your soul. So usually it's easier to figure out if you know your Origin - which is basically just a description of your soul." He pointed out.

I blinked once. Then twice. Then allowed my face to fall into my hands, a long groan escaping my lips and filling the silence between us. Qrow laughed for the first time since I had met him, and even Amber chuckled a bit at me. Of course they were laughing at me because they thought I had never made that connection. The truth was this was the first time I was hearing about whatever an Origin was, and _that_ was why I was suddenly so frustrated.

'Archer, why the hell is this the first I'm hearing about something that supposedly 'informs everything I do'?' I asked, making sure every ounce of the irritation I was presently feeling made it's way down the link to the white haired jerk.

'Well you see Jaune there's a very good explanation for that.' He said soothingly.

'That being?' I groused.

'I forgot.' He chirped in an entirely too happy tone of voice.

'You... forgot.' I said incredulously.

'Yep. Completely slipped my mind. Usually when I'm summoned it's by a competent Magus. I'm not a good teacher.' He said with the mental equivalent of a shrug.

' _You think!?'_ I practically screamed at him before giving up and changing topics.

'Look just... how do I figure out what my Origin is?' I sent, lifting my head and grabbing the stick I was using to poke the fire, then thrusting violently at the burning embers in front of me.

'Tell you later. It's not a good idea to do it anywhere near Qrow and that Thing.' Archer said, a note of worry entering his voice. This wasn't the first time he'd been dismissive of Amber. From pretty much the minute we had encountered her Archer had described her as either 'that thing' or 'that bitch'. I had no idea why, but I could only assume he had a good reason for it.

'Fine. Also, and just for the record? You suck.' I said grumpily.

'That'll do Jaune. That'll do.' He shot back, and I got the distinct impression he had just insulted me, but couldn't for the life of my figure out how.

With a sigh and the mental image of Archer tallying a point on his side of the board, I shuffled over toward a nearby tree, carved a rudimentary warding scheme into it, and settled down to go to sleep. This was going to be a really long trip.

 **-ooo-**

 **I'm baaaaaaack. So, as many of you will have noticed, I've been out of contact for about a month. The reason for this is that I've been training for the promotion I was given (I mentioned this a few chapters ago I think).**

 **I had assumed at the time that the promotion was confirmed that this would provide me with less free time to write. And with regards to the training I had to undergo, that was true. However today was my first actual day** ** _doing_** **my new job, and as it turns out, there was so little to do that I managed to finish most of this chapter while sitting at my new desk.**

 **Crazy how things turn out.**

 **So yeah, this chapter is kind of just a lot of talking and not a lot specifically happening, and I hope most of you are okay with that. Qrow might come across as a bit less 'fun' than he would in canon, but that's largely because Amber's presence is throwing him off and leaving him perpetually grouchy.**

 **In other news, I'm considering trying to get a tvtropes page running for this, if only for my own entertainment. Lord knows I'd be interested in seeing what tropes other people think apply to this story that I never wrote in intentionally.**

 **Anywho. That's all. Back to the usual once a week shtick. And as always,**

 _ **Thanks for reading.**_


	22. As The Qrow Flies

I woke up in the middle of the night.

My ward had gone off, the simple sigil designed to sting me awake when hostile intent was directed towards me. Only in this case, since the pain was supposed to be directly proportionate to how much danger I was supposedly in, I awoke feeling as if someone had just jammed a hot poker down my spine.

It was not pleasant. But it _was_ effective.

"Gah!" I screeched, lurching from my resting place against a tree. Before I could really grasp what was happening, my skull had been well... grasped. My first insinct was to gasp and ask what the fuck was going on. Then conscious thought kicked in and instead of doing _that_ I reinforced myself and braced for impact.

It never came.

"Are you done?" Amber's voice drifted down to me, and suddenly the slip of tan flesh obscuring my vision and holding my skull in a vice grip resolved itself into her hand in my mind.

'Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!' I cursed over my link to Archer. There was no need to call him since I could already feel him moving towards me, but it made me _feel_ better so I did it anyway.

'I'm coming. Distract her.' Archer commanded.

'How!?' I replied incredulously. Still it wasn't like I had a better solution to the problem so...

"Yes uh... Mrs Branwen?" I offered, my voice muffled by the hand covering my face.

Abruptly the deathgrip on my head loosened and I found myself deposited firmly on the ground by Ambers feet. Without a campfire and using only the light of the moon to judge, it was hard to tell but she looked like she was blushing.

"Oooh. I like that. You will address me as that from now on." She ordered, her body twisting this way and that, as she cooed in pleasure and repeated the name under her breath.

Well. That was easy.

"Can I ask why you woke me uh... Mrs. Branwen?" I tried cautiously, slowly shifting towards my shield where it lay against the tree I had been sleeping by.

"Ah." Amber said, freezing in place and then reorienting on me like she had momentarily forgotten I existed. Dimly I could detect Archer step invisibly into place behind me.

"I would like to ask you to leave the camp." She said plainly.

"Isn't that... unsafe?" I said, gesturing towards Qrow with one hand to indicate I meant _his_ safety instead of my own. Which was a bald faced lie.

"I mean... even you have to sleep sometime right? Who will protect y- Qrow then?" I whispered, noting that she was making absolutely no attempt to soften her voice but that Qrow was asleep still regardless.

That struck me as odd. I was a barely trained teen and I had enough of a self preservation instinct to make sure I wouldn't be surprised in my sleep. So Qrow - who had clearly been doing this for quite some time - should be, if nothing else, a light sleeper. And yet...

Looking more closely at the man, it dawned on me that two tiny flames were flickering and pulsing next to his ears. Amber followed my gaze to Qrow and her previously annoyed expression morphed into one of pure joy. If I didn't know for a fact that she was nuts I could easily have described her every gesture as love struck when she was around the older man.

"I appreciate your concern for your betters but it is unneeded. I do not sleep." She admitted flicking a finger towards Qrow and turning back to me.

"And I'll not allow my beloveds rest to be interrupted by such petty domestic affairs as this. Have no fear, my flames will consume any noise that reaches his ears." She explained.

That wasn't how fire, sound, _or_ magecraft worked but frankly arguing with Amber over the mechanics of a spell wasn't high on my priority list. Especially when she had all but stated I wouldn't be able to shout to Qrow for help if something went horribly, horribly wrong in the next couple seconds.

"So... should I just... get my stuff and go over there somewhere? Come back in the morning?" I said, making to pick up my pack.

"No. I believe it's best that you make your own way to our destination." She replied curtly, pivoting on one heel and gliding towards Qrow's sleeping form as though that was all that needed to be said.

Oh boy.

"Should... I mean if Qrow doesn't need me I could probably get back to Vale on my own?" Well, Archer could get me back anyway. He was a speedy bastard when he wanted to be.

"Do what you want. As long as I am here, your presence is not neccesary." Amber said dismissively.

I thought about it for a moment. Ozpin would understand if I just told him Amber was probably going to kill me if I stayed right?

'Archer?' I asked, hoping for a second opinion.

'She's crazy and dangerous. I'm happy with any options that separates us until we can find a reliable way to deal with her.' He answered immediately.

'And by deal with you mean kill.' I sent flatly. It worried me just a bit that I only felt the slightest tinge of resistance at that thought. Two months ago I probably would have vomited at the idea of premeditated murder. Now it just seemed like good sense.

'Whatever works.' Archer answered honestly.

Through all this I had been grabbing what few belongings I had with me, and with a final glance back at Amber, who was standing posessively over Qrow, just... staring at him, I jogged out of the clearing.

-ooo-

I hate mornings. Not only are hangovers one of the few ailments aura doesnt handily negate, everyone feels the need to give you shit about it if you try to make them go away with more drinking.

I cracked one eye open and determined via the still dusky colour of the sky that the sun was only just rising, and resisted the urge to roll over and scream into my pillow.

I used to be the type of guy who could sleep in for hours and not give a single shit about how the rest of the day was going to go. Then Oz came along and now, well now I wake up at the asscrack of dawn everytime on the spot.

I wanna chalk it up to something he did when he transplanted part of his Magic Crest into me, but it's way more likely that I just got used to be ambushed at this hour and am now trained to wake up and fight.

Damnit Oz, give me back my god damn mornings.

As my brain slowly came online - a luxury I was going to damn well enjoy given the evident lack of attackers this morning - I noticed something, something out of place.

I... had a pillow. It was soft, and warm, and I wanted nothing more than to turn and press my face into the soothing heat it emanated, if only to see if it would help with my headache.

Acknowledging that I had a pillow however, brought with it a number of questions. _Important_ questions. Where did the pillow come from? Where could I get another one? Did any of that really matter?

With a slow exhalation of breath I squeezed my eyelids shut, praying for the pressure to relieve me of the pain running through my skull so I could think better. It didn't, and after a few seconds of prayer to a god I didn't believe in I opened them again, and found myself staring into two captivating golden orbs.

At that point, I wish I could have set aside my cynicism and general bitterness long enough to just enjoy to all consuming love I found in those eyes. Unfortunately, cynicism and bitterness might as well be my semblance. God knows the thing has caused me develop the two in overabundance.

"...how did you move me without waking me up?" I asked, only mildly surprised by Ambers complete lack of respect for my personal space.

"Ma-gic~" she answered immediately in a sing song voice.

"If you can use true magic then I'm a Grimm." I snorted, slowly lifting myself upright and separating my head from what I now realized was Ambers lap.

"Mmm. The power of love then?" She said, playing along with my joke. It was amusing but at the same time, extremely off-putting. When we were alone with nothing to distract her, Amber could almost seem... normal. Every once in a while, if I was paying attention, I could catch a tiny glimpse of the Fall Maiden who wanted nothing so much as to be left to her own devices. It should warm my heart that Amber - the Amber I had only briefly met before she was so brutally wounded - was still there beneath all the crazy.

So why did I feel like shit every time I saw it?

Turning away from my would be lover, I glanced around the camp area we had established before going to sleep that night.

"Where's the kid" I asked abruptly, peering at the tree he'd been leaning against. I walked over to it and spent a couple idle moments trying to puzzle out the crap he'd scratched into it. I wasn't lying when I told the kid I was shit at Magecraft. When I was younger I didn't care to learn anything that didn't apply to fighting. Now that I'm older, I just don't have the time.

I paused, my brain still straining past the morning haze to tell me something I should be taking note of, something fairly important if the rapidly growing migraine I was feeling was any indication.

"...Amber." I stated mildly, turning to the girl who, as usual, turned out to be standing perfectly in my blind spot before I had even realized she had moved.

"Hmm?" She replied, sidling closer to me and stretching her arms out to begin rubbing my shoulders. I stepped away from her, interrupting the motion and turning to level an annoyed look at her.

"Where's Jaune?" I asked in as neutral a tone as I could possibly manage.

"It's hardly fair that I have to keep track of him. He's not _my_ son." Amber said with a pout.

"Amber!" I barked, taking another step away from the fiery tempered woman.

"Where. Is. Jaune." I said sharply. Amber frowned for a moment, then scanned the area around us, as though looking for something. When she didn't find it, she turned back to me and shrugged.

"He must have left-" she started but I cut her off.

"This isn't a freaking joke Amber." I growled, rushing to grab my weapon and clear the camp. Amber's weird personality shift had been flattering at first, when I woke up and she was just sort of in my bed. Then it was annoying. Then scary. And now it was becoming a liability.

"But you don't need him!" Amber snapped, and I began to feel the telltale rise in temperature that meant I was going to lose an argument.

"What did you do?" I said flatly, growing more suspicious the longer this conversation lasted.

"Nothing. I just informed the nuisance that his presence was no longer required." She said in a huff.

"So you kicked him out of camp in the middle of a Grimm infested forest!?" I bellowed, my own extremely short temper beginning to show through and push me to pick a fight. Amber looked like she wanted to argue the point but I stopped her, now to furious to fear the heat haze spreading around the clearing.

"Do you even know the first thing about me Amber? You say you love me but you clearly don't _understand_ me. I'm a _teacher._ And that kid was under _my_ protection. So if anything happens to him out there - it's _my_ fault." I growled at her. Her gaze grew defiant and she stepped forward, her single aura reinforced step enough to cover the distance I had been making between us in the blink of an eye.

"I know that you are a righteous and kind man who defended me in my hour of need. That is _all_ I need to know to love _you_ Qrow Branwen." She hissed, leaning in to place her head near my shoulder, mouth tilted upward as though trying to decide if she wanted to kiss me or bite me and rip my throat out.

"Do you think I do missions like this for fun!? No! It's to _protect_ people Amber. People like that kid. And you. And if your going to endanger that, then _I don't need you anywhere near me."_ I knew I had fucked up the minute I finished speaking. Every word I spoke set Amber to quivering with more and more rage. Her face had darkened into a scowl and her eyes had transformed into blazing golden slits.

Heat exploded around me, and I watched in fascinated horror as my Aura rapidly drained and my clothes began to char at their edges. I had defied Amber enough since meeting her that I could have guessed something like this would happen, but this was a step above the norm.

"Look just... I have to go get him. Stay here, I'll be back." I said through gritted teeth, using every ounce of willpower I had not to scream obscenities at her and make this even worse than it already was. Amber, who had been staring up at me from where she was pressed against me, froze. For a time if felt like she wasn't even breathing. She just stopped moving entirely, her reptilian eyes locked onto me with an eagle like focus I was coming to recognize meant she was thinking something _really_ fucking crazy. My suspicions were confirmed when - despite her halted motion - the heat continued to crank up around us, and she finally spoke.

"Oh Qrow. You silly, stupid, tragic man. If you must have him around then I will retrieve him -" She said, though it caused her obvious distress to even tacitly admit she could have been wrong.

"No! I mean." I paused, lowering my voice. "If you come he might not come back. I'll fail my mission. People will get hurt."

That's right Qrow, just go ahead and make it allll about how this affects you. That's all she cares about anyway, even if she has a weird way of showing it.

"But what if something happens!? What if... what if you don't come back?" She said in an ear piercing screech that fell away to a weak whisper as she spoke. There was something more to this than just her worrying about me getting hurt - that much was clear from how strangely she started to behave the minute I suggested she wait at the camp. But frankly, she was crazy, I was tired, and Jaune had a head start that I wasn't looking forward to contesting. So I didn't really have time to unpack just what the hell the problem was.

"Look if I don't come back, you'll know I need you, and can come running okay? Can you do that for me? Save me when I need it?" I said, lying through my teeth at this point. I highly doubted anything of note would happen less than a day away from the camp.

"...command seals." said Amber, mumbling something under her breath that I only caught part of.

"What?" I asked perplexed but thankful that the heat surrounding us seemed to be going down - I was going to run out of Aura pretty soon.

"Then take my command seals! Make me yours!" Amber barked at me, her hands flashing out to grasp me in a hug.

"What, _the fuck,_ does that mean?" I asked, my mind already miles away from the conversation and planning how I was going to catch up to Jaune now that the immediate danger was over and passed.

"I'll explain when you get back. Will you take them?" She asked forcefully, refusing to let me go to grab my gear.

"I - sure fine. Lets just get this over with." I sighed. The minute I got back to the town I was going to have to sit down with Amber and work out whatever the hell was wrong with her. She was strong, and clearly had an interest in me, but she needed to tone it back a bit or I was going to have to cut her loose.

I was also going to have to sit down with Ozpin and figure out how to cut her loose without dying in my sleep. Preferably right before I kill him for setting all this in motion. Oh he hadn't explained it to me in any great detail, but it didn't take a genius to figure out. He'd sent me a message that he'd 'healed' Amber about two minutes before she all but exploded into my bedroom.

I was dragged, forcefully but still pleasantly from my thoughts when Amber stretched up and wrenched my head down to drag me into and incredibly strong kiss. You'd think I would have a thought to spare for all the details, like how she smelled or tasted on my lips or something, but all of that flew out the window the minute she bit down on my lower lip hard enough to draw blood - no mean feat considering she had to punch through my Aura to do it.

"What the fuck?!" I gasped as she released me, the back of her hand glowing brightly for a second before that same glow appeared on my own hand.

" _What the fuck!?"_ I yelled again when the light resolved itself into a stylized tattoo of a flame on the back of my hand, accompanied by a sharp burning sensation, as though I had gotten the entire tattoo at super speed and was only now noticing the sensations associated with it.

'Now, we can never, _ever_ be apart.' Amber's voice purred into my mind, her lips curled up into a wide predatory grin and her eyes open so wide it looked uncomfortable. A small trail of blood from where she had bit me ran down the side of her mouth, and I could literally _feel_ the creepy possessive lust for me she experienced at having that little bit of me with her.

 _ **"What the fuck!?"**_ I repeated again, not actually expecting an explanation but not having enough processing power to come up with a better way to ask the question. Without thought, almost by way of habit, I started to churn prana through my circuits, mixing it with the indefinable energy of uncertainty that I thought of as my semblance. As one the two disparate forces mixed together and flowed along a predetermined path to my eyes, allowing me to see bad luck as a black emanation around whatever I looked at. Within that blackness, if I looked closely, I could see glimpses of future events. Not enough to accurately predict the future, but enough to guess what kind of bad luck I was going to have to deal with. Or take advantage of.

So imagine my _god damn shock_ , when that harmless little tattoo had a bigger aura of bad luck than literally anything I had ever seen before in my life. The aura was so vast it practically blacked out my sight, covering all of the surroundings and blotting out my vision of everything save for one single perfect image.

A still picture of Beacon in _flames_.

I quickly turned off my Mystic Eyes, shaking my head to clear the lingering wisps of shadow from my vision.

Yeah, me and Oz? We had to talk. But first, the kid.

-ooo-

'So just to clarify. Your Origin is basically a tiny bit of reality that manifests through your soul.' I said for the umpteenth time. Archer had tied to explain this to me a couple of times - mostly because I wouldn't leave him alone about it - but I just _wasn't_ getting it.

'No it... sort of. Maybe?' Archer answered me from where he was hopping about above the treeline. The uncertainty in his answer did not leave me with high hopes for my continued education under the man. Some day I just knew I was going to cast a spell and he was going to pop up and say he forgot to tell me it makes all your skin fall off or something equally ridiculous.

'Well _which is it?!_ ' I complained, slowing down for a moment to step over the gnarled root of a tree that was sticking out of the ground along the path. Well, I say 'path' but really I was just back tracking along the areas of forest Amber had cleared on our way out. Not having to deal with the trees made for a much faster trip even if the route itself was somewhat winding. Since the blast zones were separated by decent sized hunks of forest between them, I occasionally had to stumble through some slightly more difficult terrain. Like right now.

'It's complicated okay? I can't really explain it.' Archer answered defensively as I continued forward, landing next to me to walk alongside me. I had discovered that he couldn't actually fly, just jump so high and fall so slowly that it was basically the same thing from my pedestrian point of view.

Note to self. Flight Magic. Get on it.

'You have no freaking idea do you. Your just haphazardly throwing bits of information that Tohsaka chick you liked dropped on you and hoping you sound mysterious and wise enough that I leave you alone.' I accused, hopping forward to escape the close confines of the forest into another burnt out hellscape, free of tripping hazards or low hanging branches to slap me in the face.

'I didn't - I mean I'm not -' Archer spluttered, apparently at a loss for words. And not at my accusation that he didn't know what he was talking about. I stopped to turn in blatant surprise towards my servant and found myself gaping at the frazzled but wistful expression on his face _._ I mean, his ethereal ass actually _stumbled_ for a second when I had spoken. Who does that?

'Bet it must have sucked when she turned you down huh?' I said mostly because I wanted to capitalize on this rare moment of vulnerability to mess with the white haired prick.

"Turn me down...? I thought you said you were pretty far along in the dream cycle. Did you just not see it?" Archer said, this time aloud and not over our mental link.

"See... oh _come on_ your a fatalistic antisocial jerk! How is it _you_ have more game than me?! I thought the blonde one was your-" I stopped mid sentence when Archer's gaze flicked down and away from me.

"Her too!?" I cried, throwing my arms in the air for emphasis. Thoughts of all the women I knew at beacon flickered through my head at rapid speed before I shook the images loose with a savage shake of my head. I was a teenage boy, I wanted a girlfriend - so sue me.

"I mean I wouldn't say... do you hear that?" Archer asked his expression falling into his usual resting bitch face. I knew better than to ignore the warning. Archer's senses were _much_ better than my own, so if he heard something coming then there was no point trying to contest him with my mere mortal hearing.

Fast as I could, I shucked off my backpack, withdrew Flamen Volcanalis and began to reinforce myself.

And then waited.

And waited.

I was just starting to feel like kind of a moron when the rumbling began. Low at first, and then stronger and stronger, until finally the entire clearing I was in was vibrating with unrestrained force, shaking the leaves from trees and even causing some of the smaller saplings to fall over.

'Jaune move!' Archer yelled, and I dove forward on reinforced feet in a controlled move that sent me rolling away from where I had just been standing, mere _moments_ before the ground there exploded upwards. From the hole in the ground came an inky black limb, thick with corded muscle. At the end of the appendage was an enormous set of hooked claws that looked more like shovels than anything that belonged on an animal.

I didn't wait for my enemy to finish dragging itself from the hole it had made trying to get to me. I concentrated for a second, running prana through the circuits in my shield and towards the red dust I kept in it, manifesting the red sword of pure fire energy I had judged was my best bet for dealing with Aura-less opponents. I could draw all of my blades at once if I had the time to say my whole Aria, but as always practicality won out over cool factor in my mind and so I stuck with just the one.

The decision might also have been influenced by my recent front row seat to the destructive force that was Amber.

With a flick of my free hand the burning blade shot forth and buried itself in the emerging torso of what turned out to be some kind of Ursa on steroids. It immediately began to burn alive, taking no more than a few moments to disintegrate into whatever immaterial substance Grimm are made of, leaving my blade hovering in the space it once occupied. A mental tug pulled the red blade - a perfect replica of Crocea Mors old sword wreathed in flame - back to hovering at my side.

"Well that wasn't so bad." I said, a little perplexed at the sudden attack from a Grimm that had absolutely no business being underground.

Suddenly another explosion of earth off to my left drew my attention, and then another to my right. More and more Ursa began to rise from the dirt beneath me like the worlds most twisted pet cemetery. I pursed my lips. I could take a couple of Ursa but where the hell were they coming from?

I charged the nearest Ursa, a quick swipe of my blade immolating it and leaving me free to pivot and block the charge of the next attacker. It impacted my shield hard enough to push me back through the ash filling the clearing, and I had to duck beneath it and use reinforcement to fling it over me so I would have the freedom to jump away from yet another Grimm that had decided to crawl from one of the nearby holes in the ground.

'Where the hell are these things coming from?' I asked Archer, not all that worried by the circumstances. For one thing, I needed practice with Flamen Volcanalis, and for another, I could always swap with Archer if things got too hairy.

'Hang on, I'll check.' Archer said, then leapt into one of the holes, leaving me to continue dealing with the rapidly growing assault. Which was fine. I kind of specialized in wide area destruction after all.

Setting my blade so spinning around me and freeing my right hand up from having to control it I sprinted through the slow moving Grimm dodging attacks and lashing out with my shield whenever the opportunity presented itself. As I did so, I pulled a gem of gravity dust from my belt pouch and began rapidly reinforcing it.

 **"In the Wake of Giants"** I chanted the now abbreviated aria, flinging the crystal from my hand into the center of the clearing I had just evacuated. It wasn't too hard to shorten once my grasp on basic Magecraft had improved - I was after all, much better now than when I had been going through initiation. I just wished I could do the same for Flamen Volcanalis. But no matter how hard I worked at it I just _couldn't_ shorten the chant. If I tried nothing happened. Or worse, something happened, but not what I _wanted_ to happen. Usually something vaguely explosive.

I had only the briefest of moments to witness a veritable sea of black bodies and white masks orienting on me before Archer yelled to me over our link.

'Jaune there's an entire cave system down here. Hundreds of Grimm are down here digging.' He said, and I had just enough time to register how that might affect my immediate problems before the spell went off.

And the entire clearing, along with all the Grimm in it, collapsed, turning into a sink hole the size of a large building. The sudden increase in weight and downward force was like a god stomping through a layer of tissue paper. For the briefest of moments conditions were _just_ right for most of the solid objects in the vicinity to behave as though they were liquids. And it was freaking _awesome_.

And the hole, I realized, was getting bigger.

"Craaaaaap!" I yelled, spinning around the start running the hell away from the aftermath of my own attack. I cursed under my breath when I skidded to a halt, well clear of the damage. I just didn't get the chance to cut loose like this that often. I mean, physically yeah I was pretty much always pushing my limits, but magically? Not a chance.

"You alright?" Archer asked, appearing next to me like he hadn't been dead in the center of the calamity I had just caused.

"Peachy." I grumbled, hopping forward a bit to look down into the pit before me. It wasn't pretty. For as many Grimm as I had probably just completely eradicated, hundreds, possibly even thousands more were running about below me. They flowed forward into a network of tunnels that all seemed to be going in one direction. Even stranger, with the exception of the Grimm that had come up to attack me, the ones down below were completely ignoring me. And Grimm just didn't do that.

"Hey, do you remember which direction Mountain Glenn is in?" I asked idly without bothering to look up.

"What? How-? Never mind. It's that way." A voice I wasn't expecting to hear answered from behind me, sounding annoyed and out of breath. I whirled around to find Qrow peering over the ledge with me and pointing in the same direction all the Grimm were going.

"Qrow? Where's Amber?" I asked, stepping away from the older man.

"She stayed behind. She-" Qrow said then paused, frowning and tilting his head to the side like he was listening to something that wasn't there.

'Look at his hand.' Archer advised as I stared on perplexed. My gaze flicked towards Qrows uncovered right hand and my eyes widened at what I found there. Command Seals. Command Seals that _definitely_ hadn't been there when we left the city. Shit. One more reason I would have to hold Archer in reserve for an emergency.

"She's on her way." Qrow said after a moment, turning to look back down at the tide of Grimm.

"Looks like were going to have to skip stealth. Vale needs to know about this as soon as possible." Qrow groused, turning to start walking around the crater I had made.

"Shouldn't we wait for Amber?" I asked, not really sure _why_ I wanted to wait for the woman who would as soon kill me as bother remembering my name.

"She'll catch up." Qrow stated firmly, started jogging off.

'This is a terrible idea. You should just go back to Vale. You can't rush into a dangerous situation with allies you don't even trust.' Archer counseled. He was right of course. This was dumb as hell. At the same time, Qrow was right. We really, _really_ had to figure out what the hell was going on with these Grimm so we could report back to Ozpin. The cities defenses were good, but they only worked because Grimm weren't smart enough to mobilize in great numbers. If this many came up against the walls... I shivered at just the thought of it.

'Gonna have to risk it. You've got my back right?' I asked, starting to jog after Qrow.

'Not like I have a choice.' Archer replied grumpily.

'Aw come on can't we just have a moment here without you getting all grumpy about it?' I asked.

'I have no idea what you're talking about.' Archer said in a huff.

'Fine. No bonding moments. So the blond girl too huh?' I said changing the subject.

'You know I kind of hate you right now.' was Archer's only response.

'Did you ever do any of that sex magic stuff?' I continued, ignoring him.

'...'

'Because I mean it seems like -'

-ooo-

Today was the today. I was going to go meet Jaune's family. Admittedly, not in the capacity I would _like_ to meet them in, but still. A good first impression was important. Lord knows _my_ mother would never let me pursue a relationship with a complete stranger.

Not that that was why I was going.

'I still don't see why you don't just pull him into a closet between classes. Men aren't very complicated.' Rider said, her immaterial state being the only reason I hadn't immediately tried to lunge at her for such a crass comment.

'Th-th-that is _not_ appropriate for a young lady to do! My publicist would have a fit!' I answered, doing my best to hide my sudden blush and flustered look from Ren and Nora who were sharing a room on the train with me. Team RWBY was in another room, after having spent over an hour packing things for their 'vacation'.

A quick glance up was enough to tell me that Ren either hadn't noticed or didn't care, and Nora was too busy enjoying the lap pillow Ren was giving her to see. It wasn't surprising. Within mere moments of stepping into the room - which had two benches on either wall facing each other - she had shoved me into a seat and placed all of her luggage next to me. Five minutes later she had gotten inexplicably tired and had to lay down - something she did immediately, flopping over Rens lap like a child. Or a dog. Possibly both.

'What's a publicist? Is he stronger than you?' Rider asked, curious.

'Absolutely not. A Publicist is just someone who helps maintain your image to the public.' I explained while trying to banish the sudden heat from my cheeks.

'If he can't _make_ you do something, then why would you do it? Ignore those that would control you Pyrrha, they will be no help to you in battle, and highly detrimental to you outside of it.' Rider said solemnly.

'You can't just _ignore_ everyone weaker than you.' I sighed in exasperation. This was a repeat of a conversation I had been having off and on with Rider since the moment we had returned from the Forever Falls.

'Of course you can't - the weak make the food and weave the clothes. But that doesn't mean you have to listen to them all the time.' Rider lectured me.

'That doesn't mean it's okay to just-' I bit back, my composure beginning to fall apart, but I was interrupted partway through the though by the train grinding to a halt and the speakers in the roof of the cabin blaring a tinny voice.

 **"This stop, Ansel."** Spoke the conductor, causing Nora to jolt up as though she had been awake the entire time so she could grab her bags from next to me.

"Come ooooon." She whined as Ren and I took the time to make sure we weren't forgetting anything on a seat.

"There's no rush Nora." Ren chastised her, clearly missing the sudden narrowing of her eyes when he turned his back to her. A part of me wanted to take note of that and warn him that retribution for his insolence was likely forthcoming.

A different, very uncouth part of me, thought it was hilarious and Ren probably deserved it for not noticing Nora's feelings.

I wasn't projecting or anything. Really.

"Hey lets go, I don't actually know where Jaune lives so were going to have to ask around town." Called Ruby from the hallway in an excited tone that said she was juts _itching_ for some adventure.

"We'll be right out!" I answered, nudging Nora with an elbow and gesturing towards the door to get her refocused on something that wasn't torturing Ren. It wasn't so much that she was a vengeful girl, or even half as crazy as she liked to pretend she could be, but it was clear that she was going to get frustrated and do something very... Nora... soon.

We disembarked from the train in short order and met with the rest of the group in the train station. Weiss was looking around in obvious dismay. Ansel was... rural. Contrary to the tall buildings and bustle of Vale, the streets her were almost completely devoid of vehicle traffic, with only a few people moving and forth along the sidewalks. Very few other people had even gotten off of the train here, leaving me wondering how bad it would even further out at the end of the line.

"So, does anyone know where we start? It's not like we can just run around yelling Jaune's name until someone recognizes it." Yang piped up, hands behind her head in a carefree expression of boredom.

"Obviously first we have to find a hotel or... inn I suppose to stay in. There's no telling how long we'll be looking. We could be here all weekend trying to find -" Weiss said, immediately taking charge of the group and gesturing towards the exit to the station.

"Excuse me." Came a strangers voice, one of the few people that had gotten off of the train at Ansel besides us.

"Yes?" Weiss responded quickly and politely, wiping the irritation of being interrupted off of her face faster than anyone would ever notice it was there. Except me of course. I was always looking out for the haughty noblewoman that lived just beneath the surface of Weiss' public face. As one the group turned to find a tall older woman with medium length white hair standing next to us with a strained and tired expression on her face.

"Did you say Jaune just now? Jaune Arc?" She said, and though her voice was carefully neutral, possibly even bored, there was a tinge of desperation in it.

"Yes actually. Do you happen to know where his home is? We were hoping to -" I started trying to jump ahead of Weiss, if only to introduce myself before she started making rude demands of this stranger. Something she didn't seem to understand was a poor way to make friends. Unfortunately, much faster than I was able to react - which was a surprise in and of itself - the woman had practically teleported in front of me, putting her hands on both of my shoulders and staring down at me with bloodshot eyes that were full of so much hope it almost hurt to look at.

"So you know him? Do you know where he is?" She croaked, her composure obviously beginning to fall apart.

"Ah, who might you be to Jaune exactly?" Weiss said, interposing herself between the stranger and I and gently separating us. She looked suspicious. Which was fair, because I _felt_ suspicious.

"He's my brother." The woman said bluntly. The group fell silent for a while until Yang, bless her heart broke the spell.

"Well. That was quick."

 **-ooo-**

 **So this is the point where the story splits and I either have to stretch this chunk out by writing two separate story arcs at the same time, or I could write all of whats going on with Jaune and Mountain Glenn - which is basically replacing Team RWBY's canonical trip to the place - then write the RWBY visit to see Jaune's Parents. One of the most frequently asked questions I get is why the hell Jaune's parents are so weirdly adamant he stay at home, and part of that gets answered in the home trip. I can't promise the whole mystery is unraveled but a hefty chunk of understanding is incoming.** ** _IF_** **I do that part first and set Jaune's adventures with Qrow aside for a bit.**

 **What do you guys think? Leave me a review with your opinion and I'll do my best to hue to the majority opinion. I was going to write all of this anyway so really it's just about the format and order you, the reader, get to experience it in.**

 **In other news, I'll be doing another chapter of my more infrequent story For Someone's Glory this week - it's March and all so I do owe you all another chapter. I've also been cooking up a High School DXD crossover but have been sort of puzzling out what I want to use for the crossover. I've had a couple ideas that I've fleshed out but haven't settled just yet.**

 **Anyway, thats all for me. Oh and,**

 _ **Thanks for reading.**_


	23. Of Past Plights

"So you just tell everyone that all of your Magecraft is a 'semblance', and that actually works?" Qrow asked, clearly somewhat annoyed by something about what he had just said. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why though - it wasn't as if it actually affected him.

"Basically. I mean anything can be a semblance so it's not that weird." I replied with a distracted tone of voice and a shrug.

"Any _one_ thing can be a semblance. Emphasis on _one_. Your too versatile for that. Only an idiot would believe that your semblance can do everything Oz says you can do." Qrow shot back, ducking and sliding under a tree that had fallen over and was leaning against one of its neighbors before popping back up to return to his long loping run.

"Yeah I also told them my family is full of dust technicians. It's usually one or the other." I said with a roll of my eyes as I repeated Qrows maneuver and fell into step next to him.

We were sprinting across the Grimm infested forest, secure in the knowledge that all the Grimm were headed in the same direction as us and therefore not likely to be a threat. A normal person would have probably considered the pace we were setting - easily enough to keep up with a car on the road - 'suicidal'. We however, weren't ordinary people. We were Huntsmen, and the nurturing properties of Aura were more than enough to keep this pace up for days if we had to.

Even if it would really start to suck after a while.

"Makes sense I guess. Now that I think about it that's what your mother told my class too... wish I'd know that was code for 'I am a magus' back then, would have given me someone to talk to when Oz started training us." Qrow said ruefully.

"Ozpin trained my Mom?" I asked curiously. It would make sense. She had to learn from someone, and gramps was dead by the time she was in school. And I doubted she had a Servant to learn from like I did - which would make trial and error the only other option.

That thought brought to mind the atrocities I had seen in Velvets book and I quickly blanked my mind of the recollection. Now probably wasn't the best time to unpack the mounting evidence that my Mom was a monster.

"No, just my sister and I. Do me a favour, if you ever meet a crazy woman who wont shut up about strength meaning everything, just pretend your a weak idiot or she might try to adopt you or something." Qrow said, letting loose a quick laugh that was equal parts depression and honesty.

"...sure? What about my Dad? What was he like in school?" I said, changing the topic.

"What about him? He never went to Beacon. Your Mom brought him back from Mountain Glenn after her graduation mission. I thought he was from Mystral?" Qrow ask curiously, turning slightly to look at me while we ran.

My parents had told me they went to Beacon together, and nothing I had ever seen or heard contravened that point. Until now. Dad was obviously from Vale, or at the very least, he wasn't from Mystral. What I couldn't get was _why?_ What was the point of lying about it? It was such an arbitrary lie to make.

I mean, so what they met on a mission. Fine. No big deal. Maybe Dad was ashamed that he got his license at a test center or something instead of the illustrious Beacon Academy. Maybe he thought it was weird that he was older than Mom when they met. Maybe...

I paused.

Dad wasn't older than mom. He looked and acted like a man in his early thirties at best. He aged remarkably well for someone with such a stressful profession. Or rather, thinking back on it, _did_ Dad age?

I wish I could say that in that moment I stumbled and fell, or was so shocked that all the air left my lungs as the mystery slammed into me with all the force of a haymaker. But honestly this was pretty par for the course when it came down to my family lying to me. At least I didn't find Dads secret book of torture methods or something.

And of course, now I had to find something appropriate to say to Qrow, who was still watching me curiously. What had my life become that ageless mystery Dad was so low on my priority list?

"Yeah he... said he knew Mom when she was in school so I guess I just assumed he went to Beacon." I lied, quickly deflecting from what I was actually thinking.

"Huh. I mean your Mom got around back then so I guess -" Qrow started but I jumped ahead of him both figuratively and literally.

"Yeah were done here. Come on the cities up ahead." I said, slightly flustered. My Mom could be Satan herself and I'd be more comfortable talking about that then her various sexcapades when she was younger.

"Aw come on kid it's nothing to be ashamed of!" Qrow called bemused after me as the broken walls of Mountain Glenn loomed up in the distance.

"I hear she's turned out to be kind of a mil-" he said, laughing until I spoke over him.

"If you finish that sentence I'll tell Amber about it, and then she'll kill _both_ of us." I warned him honestly.

He shut up after that, and we made the rest of the run in silence.

'You've learned well.' Archer joked across our mental link, though there was a strain underlying the statement, as though he was forcing himself to feel some degree of cheer.

'Learned from the best.' I answered back smugly.

But as we approached the outskirts of the defunct city, I found myself wondering; how long would I be able to keep the false cheer going?

-ooo-

Something was very wrong and I wasn't sure anyone but me noticed.

"Ooh, ooh, was Jaune always so good at working with dust? I hear he blew up a giant Deathstalker during initiation!" Ruby happily asked, flitting back and forth around Bianca - Jaunes sister - as she led us through town.

"N-no he's actually quite the homebody. Dishes, laundry - likes to cook." The pale older woman said, not for the first time answering Rubys questions without actually answering them.

"Hehe, you hear that Pyrrha? He's _house husband_ material." Nora whispered to me, nudging me with her elbow and letting loose a conspiratorial chuckle.

Under normal circumstances I would have been highly embarrassed at the insinuation that I planned to marry Jaune. Right now however, I had one foot in the door of my combat mindset. Because with every innocent question Ruby asked about Jaune - especially how he was taught to fight - Bianca grew more and more grim.

Now, as we strode up the winding dirt path to the Arc family home - a path I noticed was well clear of witnesses - I was beginning to wonder if something was up.

'Rider, can you keep an eye out? Something feels weird about this.' I politely asked my servant.

'Certainly Master. I admit the amount of prana in the air here is somewhat stifling. And out of place.' Rider commented and I could feel her intangible presence settling about me like a warm cloak.

I winced at her form of address. I strongly disliked being called Master by anyone. It was far too similar to something my father would demand his servants call him. It wasn't that I had trouble in a leadership roll - though I certainly wouldn't choose to bear one if given a choice. No, the issue was the assumption that the people you led were somehow beneath you. As though the ability to take charge was more valuable in and of itself than the ability to actually achieve something.

Just another reason Weiss bothered me so much I suppose.

"And here we are. Just give me a second to... unlock the door." Bianca said, pausing as we approached the front door of the house as though trying to find the words for what she wanted to say.

It was a decent sized home. But not overly large. Assuming all of Jaunes siblings were home at once it would definitely be a tight fit. I briefly imagined an army of children charging about the yard, playing some inane game as children are want to do. I told myself I was imagining Jaunes family as children, living in happier times, and very pointedly ignored the fact that all of the kids had my hair.

Bianca - who at this point was so haggard and cranky looking that even the exuberant Ruby had calmed down and stopped pestering her, withdrew a dust crystal from a pouch and held it up to the door. It was covered in tiny scratches and notches that, if one looked closely, formed something of a pattern on the surface of the stone. Nothing happened for several seconds, but that didn't stop literally everyone from leaping away from Bianca as if bitten by a poisonous snake, including myself.

Good little hunters that we were, every last one of us had our weapons drawn and pointed at the woman. A Magus I was not, but every last one of us Beacon students had seen the results of one of Jaune's dust explosives, and none of us were so comfortable with the situation as to ignore such an obvious threat.

"...what exactly is this supposed to be?" Bianca said calmly, lifting her head from the stone in her hand to stare perplexed at us.

"For someone who refuses to answer a single question about Jaunes Dustcraft you sure do seem to be ignoring how massive a threat that thing in your hand is." Weiss pointed out - quite literally gesturing at the little blue gem with the tip of her rapier. Ah, so the ice queen _had_ noticed something wrong. On the one hand, it meant we were prepared at least. On the other - damn. I thought I'd gotten one over her.

"This is a key for my Mothers wa-defenses." Bianca stated calmly. Too calmly by half in fact. She had handily wiped the haggard expression from her face and was staring down at us with such obvious condescension that it made Weiss look like a kitten in comparison.

"You mean wards. Your mothers _wards_." Weiss asserted. I could see the sudden shift in the air the second she spoke. A tension so palpable that I couldn't help but be wary.

"Ah. I get it now. That old parasite Ozpin has been teaching Jaune. I suppose you're here to try to badger Mom into helping with his Grimm problems?" Bianca said distastefully, her stance subtly shifting to one that screamed of barely restrained violence. Her hands twitched towards the strap holding the enormous instrument case on her back then stopped. She watched us coldly, as if awaiting our next move.

"What? No we thought-" Weiss began before Yang cut in.

"Don't call Ozpin a parasite lady! Jaunes with us, obviously hes fighting the Grimm." She called out with some finality. There was a low anger in the blond girls voice that spoke of a deeper rage, and before I could think to defuse the situation, Bianca moved.

Or rather, she tried to.

All at once, Bianca pulled the strap from her shoulders, dragging the enormous case in front of her just in time to intercept a wanton charge from Yang that launched her backward through the front door of the house and out of sight with a sharp crack as the wooden door frame exploded inward. And then silence reigned over us.

"Yang!" Ruby yelled at her sister, clearly dismayed by the sudden violence.

"Come on Rubes, she wasn't going to tell us anything - she doesn't even know where Jaune _is."_ Yang chided with a snort, clapping her hands together as if brushing away dust.

'Duck.' Rider advised and I instantly heeded the advice, calling out for everyone else to get down and charging forward to drag Yang down with me. Unfortunately, those few moments of movement were more than enough of a delay for what happened next to still hit both of us.

The front half of the house exploded outward as if blown away by a giant windstorm, blowing Yang and I away. We were sent tumbling through the nearby foliage, the small branches causing our auras to flicker as we rolled. I was just thinking about how I was going to calm every down and get back to a dialogue this situation (probably with Weiss' help) when the sound of feet plodding through the debris reached my ears.

From the wreckage of the house walked seven women. Their hair colors ranged from light pink to electric blue, and every single one of them, both old and young, carried a weapon. Each of them stood tall and proud, glaring out at us with a very familiar set of blue eyes.

The shortest of them - a girl who looked even younger than Ruby with hair a slightly different blonde than Jaunes - stepped forward, twirling two tonfa as casually as some children carry their toys. When she was sure she had everyones attention, the twirling stopped - and she spoke.

"Your right that we don't know where he is, but I think I speak for all of us when I say; you seem like you can help us with that." The little girl said in a voice so controlled and flat I wouldn't have guessed it came from a child if I heard it over the phone.

'OH! Warriors to the last! I like them. You'd do well to join this clan. Comport yourself well in the coming combat, I will ensure that you don't die." Rider said happily, her presence taking on a vaguely bloodthirsty feel as she began to examine the combatants.

If I was a normal girl, that would have probably been an extremely frightening possibility. Forget fighting my friends whole family, if these people were even vaguely as destructive as Jaune the entire town of Ansel was in danger.

But it should be said that I was _far_ from a normal girl. I might not like the publicity that came with it, or the sure knowledge that I had crushed the dreams of so many fighters that had come after my position at the top. But I _loved_ fighting. To me, it was more than just a way to make my parents proud - though that was how it had all started. No, to me the art of combat was just that. An art form. One I could spend my whole life perfecting without complaint.

My heart began to jackhammer and my world narrowed down to only what I needed in order to fight to the fullest in the coming battle. The feeling of adrenaline rushing through my veins was like a seductive siren call, beckoning me to lock blades with a formidable foe. A confident smile spread across my face, and I found myself rising from the heap of limbs that was Yang, ignoring her outraged cries as I did so.

I had no intention of relinquishing my title of The Invincible Girl any time soon after all.

-ooo-

The streets of Mountain Glenn were bizarrely empty, all things considered. I had been sort of expecting to arrive to find battlements lined with Grimm and some maniacal, evil wizard cackling about world domination behind them. Instead all that Qrow and I found as we climbed a section of wall that had caved in was an abandoned set of streets.

"See anything?" I asked Qrow as we slowly crept forward, leap frogging past bits of debris to maintain our cover. Qrow fell into the behavior pretty much automatically, like he was accustomed to having a partner and just assumed anyone with him would naturally fall into formation. Not that it stopped him from giving me a suspicious look when I actually did all of that. Just because there was nothing in the streets didn't mean I was going to start acting sloppy after all.

"Not yet. My Magecraft needs living things to bounce off of. Buildings can't have bad luck." The older man answered, sticking his head around a corner and scanning the area past it for a moment before waving me forward, pointing to a little alleyway across from him where I could stop. I nodded at the motion and sprinted across the intervening distance.

'What about you? Anything?' I asked Archer hopefully.

'He's right when he says there isn't anything living in these ruins, but I don't think you understand how right he is. There's literally nothing here Jaune. No rats, no bugs, no birds. It's like something is warding them away.' My servant warned bringing a grimace to my face. There was that word again. Ward. It implied a working knowledge of Magecraft, which didn't bode well for me if I actually ran into another person here. Grimm I could handle, but another Magus? Probably not, not if my brief encounter with Velvet was anything to go by.

'Keep looking around, let me know if you find anything.' I requested, then pointed out a mostly undamaged house that looked like it still had functioning windows and doors to Qrow before slowly moving towards it.

"Where's Amber?" I asked aloud, even as I began to run Prana through my circuits and laid a hand on the wall of the house. I'd never done this before - mostly because I hadn't needed to - but I was going to attempt to analyze the whole house at once, along with everything in it. Not in any great detail, just enough for the basics to sink in. Were their Grimm, people, explosives, or wards inside. Anything else was superfluous to me.

"She's right behind us. I thought it'd be best if she hang back." Qrow admitted with an unhappy grant that told me that conversation probably hadn't been fun for him. If the way he tilted his head occasionally as if acknowledging something I couldn't see was any indication, that conversation might _still_ be going quite poorly for him. I didn't look that obvious when talking to Archer right? Right?

I opened my mouth to say something in response to that, but suddenly found myself frozen still by what my Structural Analysis was giving me on the house. None of the four main things I was looking for were present here, but something even _more_ concerning had come up that I felt was worth mentioning.

"Shit!" I said, jerking bodily away from the building I had wanted to make into a base camp and nearly falling down in my haste to back up.

"What?!" Qrow asked, his weapon drawn and pointed.

"The building is... wait hang on." I said in consternation, realizing that I hadn't stopped using Structural Analysis when I had fallen backwards and that I was getting the same reading from the ground as the house.

"No, _the whole damn city_ is cursed it looks like." I spat in disgust. Looking around myself as if I had only just realized where I was.

"Explain." Qrow ground out through gritted teeth.

"Something really bad happened here at some point, and it tainted the land. What I don't get is-" I paused, sensing that Archer had more information for me.

'The city is on a pair of leylines that intersect.' He said perfunctorily, before returning to his duties.

"What I don't get is how someone could screw up two leylines _this bad_ " I said, hurriedly changing what I was going to say which was 'I don't see where all this ambient Prana is coming from'.

"Could the evacuation of the city have done it? Thousands died in the tunnels beneath the city." Qrow suggested, eyeing his surroundings warily while coming to help me up from the sitting position I was in.

"Whatever happened had to be magical in nature, or it wouldn't have affected the leylines." I pointed out, although I was only half right. Technically if someone wanted to they could use normal explosives to screw up a leyline, but they'd have to be really accurate about it to get anywhere with it. In other words, they would have to be mystically aware of them in the first place - a Magus.

'Did he say tunnels?' Archer said abruptly.

'Yeah, why?' I asked.

'Weren't all the Grimm running here through underground tunnels?' Archer prompted, as though trying to help me reach the right conclusion on my own. Which I did, but it was still annoying that he couldn't just outright say it.

"The tunnels! That's probably where all the Grimm are." I realized, smacking myself in the face with one hand for not making such an obvious connection. I knew - at least tangentially - what had happened in Mountain Glenn. Besides the obviously failed attempt to start a city besides Vale in the Grimm lands, it was one of the greatest tragedies of the modern age, and not just because it didn't work out. Nearly thirty years ago, every Grimm in the area had gotten up and decided to go to Mountain Glenn. It wasn't a completely unexpected reaction - the anxiety of thousands of settlers going to an unknown location to make a life for themselves did tend to draw the attention of the demonic beings. But the number of Grimm that had shown up had been well in excess of what the city had been expecting, almost as if it had been a calculated move on the mindless creatures part.

Even then, the true tragedy of Mountain Glenn had occurred deep below us, in the emergency escape tunnels. The populace, who had rightfully wanted to get the heck out of dodge the second they realized what was going on, had crammed themselves into the tunnels, which stretched all the way from here to Vale, and therefore, safety. But the risk of the Grimm reaching Vale had been too great, and only a fraction of the people here had made it to safety before the tunnels were blown, blocking them off.

I only really knew most of this because the defense of Mountain Glenn had been the mission my Mom had taken for her graduation. It was supposed to be a fairly safe security duty, but had morphed into a haggard escape that to this day, she would occasional wake up in the middle of the night screaming about. The tunnels were a hell that none of the survivors were ever likely to forget.

The tunnels that led to Vale.

The tunnels, where all the Grimm were.

The tunnels, where all the Grimm were _digging_.

Oh god damnit.

"Qrow it's-" I started to say but could already see the light of realization clicking on in the older mans eyes. Suddenly all thoughts of the curse that permeated the land here flew from my mind _._ It was a thaumaturgical mystery to be sure, but since it was one that didn't seem like it had any bearing on the current problem, I'd set it aside for the moment.

As one, Qrow and I nodded, then began making our way through the city once more.

Five minutes of searching brought us to one of the tunnel access points, which I was unsurprised to find were heavily guarded. What I was surprised by, was by _who_ was guarding it.

"Are you kidding me? Can I catch even one break?" I muttered under my breath at the sight of the two featureless porcelain automatons that stood stock still by the stairs leading downward.

"Wanna share with the class?" Qrow whispered to me, shooting me a quizzical look.

"No but it's important so I will. Those things are dangerous. Aura piercing weaponry and drugs that shut down Magecraft." I abbreviated for him, even though deep inside the seeds of panic were already beginning to grow within me. I didn't bother describing the circumstances under which I had discovered all of that. He didn't need to know and I didn't want to spend too long remembering it. I pulled away from the building corner I had been peering around with Qrow, placing my back to the wall and sliding down it tiredly, taking deep, slow, breathes to calm myself.

"Who the hell went and made something _that_ dangerous? Abilities like that are useless against the Grimm unless - Atlas?" Qrow asked, a hard edge to his voice that told me he was thinking three steps ahead of me already. Unfortunately for him, he was thinking three steps in the wrong direction.

"No. Caster. Psychopath Master Magus. I fought him once before, at the Forever Falls." I corrected him before he could fall to far down whatever rabbit hole he was in, muttering pointed insults at a man named James. Qrow pursed his lips as though what I had said didn't quite negate his worries, but he nodded at me in understanding none the less.

"...and I'm telling you, that Vale is _my_ mission!" An enraged feminine voice rang out from out of sight, causing both of us to freeze in place, then quickly scramble to make sure we were hidden.

"My dear, the _Fall Maiden_ is your mission. I have a very different reason for being here that has nothing to do with you and everything to do with that flamboyant little tattoo you seem to have acquired." Another voice, this one calm and somehow slightly mocking answered the first.

"The Grail is just a means to an end. It cannot grant our Mistress what she truly desires and so it is useless to her - and that makes it _mine_!" The woman barked back, clearly agitated by the mans words. I was agitated for an entirely different reason. Unless this person was the Master of Lancer, then Casters Master - the person who had necessitated _untold bloodshed_ was here. Right in front of me. All I had to do was -

Qrow laid a hand on my shoulder, roughly shoving me back down into my hiding spot. I hadn't realized it, but I was halfway up and reaching for a gem in my pouch, more than ready to take out the entire building I was behind if it meant a shot at that _monster._ I tried to stand back up, and briefly considered reinforcing myself to contest the point, but Qrows dour expression and annoyed look said a lot more than any words would. We needed to know what these two were doing here, and we needed to find out without getting caught or dying.

"Darling child, do you even know where you presently stand? This, the sight of the second holy grail war? Do you even understand the kind of opposition you face? The kind of atrocities that could be visited upon you should you fail to - hurk!" The calmly mocking voice was cut off, and the titanic rumble of machinery suddenly filled the air.

 **"I apologize, but do not speak more on the subject. My Master has a temper."** Caster's familiar, stereo voice rang out.

"I... hah... merely wished to... guh... provide ample warning, as a veteran of the... previous war." A choked voice spoke, clearly struggling to breath.

A few seconds of silence passed, and then the whirring of machinery vanished once more into the ether.

"I trust we won't have any more issues Arthur." The female voice said, although this time it was completely devoid of any anger, and was instead suffused with a kind of seductive glee at the other mans suffering that I probably should have expected from anyone who would cheerfully call themselves the Master of Caster.

"...Quite." the cultured sounding man replied with a subdued and annoyed tone. Then we heard the sounds of feet crunching through the gravel ahead, vanishing into the distance. We waited several more moments before either of us chanced a look around the building, finding the tunnel entrance devoid of people but still guarded by the Dolls. When we pulled back I could see Qrow staring at the command seals on his hand like they were a snake that had just bitten him. My heart went out to him. Without fully understanding what the Grail War was, it was easy to look at Mountain Glenn and assume that what happened here could happen to Vale.

Actually, that was entirely true when I thought about it. We were actively in the process of seeing all of this happen to Vale. The only difference between Qrow and I, was that I knew _why_ someone would do that.

'Jaune.' Archer's voice rang across our mental link, a note of urgency to it I had never quite heard before. A desperation.

'I think I know where the curse came from.' He said solemnly.

And the hits just keep on coming.

 **-ooo-**

 **Just a quick chapter to keep the momentum going. I'm still undecided on how I'm going to proceed but this chapter should give you guys a better idea of what each story will entail. I definitely don't want anyone to think that Jaune's trip to Mountain Glenn is just going to be a rehash of the canon.**

 **I should clarify that while Bianca does pull out an enchanted gem in this chapter, it remains to be seen if she can actually use Magecraft, or if she was just given the stone by her Mother, who we** ** _know_** **is a Magus.**

 **Anywho, not much else on my end, thank you all so much for the reviews - they're basically like catnip for me, and help me motivate myself to keep writing. Oh, and;**

 _ **Thanks for reading.**_


	24. Hearts & Minds

The situation had devolved.

I watched carefully as the seven women arrayed in front of us sauntered forward, utterly confident in their inevitable victory. I could feel my Semblance rumbling to life in the back of my head. It ran over the emotions I suddenly found myself feeling, and spat out only a mere taste of what could have been. Like a droplet of water falling from the tap, it pulsed through me.

 _Annoyance._ _If idiot Jaune hadn't gotten suspended then -_

Then it was gone, the majority of the emotion sent away to wherever such things went. I was of two minds on the subject. On the one hand, the brief flashes of emotion were what allowed me to behave and react the way a normal person might when faced with daily life. Certainly I was much calmer and more collected than many of my peers - but since they were largely hormone addled teenagers, I assumed that would level out over time. This was a good thing, and probably the reason I had been able to make my way through life without being accused of sociopathy or worse, _psychopathy_.

On the other hand, I frequently felt as though I was a man dying of thirst at sea. I had emotions. I could _feel_ them. But never enough to be _affected_ by them. I understood, intellectually, the highs and lows a normal human being could experience, and the catharsis that came with acting on those emotions. Nora, my childhood friend, was a perfect example of this. Almost my exact opposite, she _always_ felt strongly about things. She _always_ acted on her feelings. She -

 _Joy._ _Nora was the only good thing to ever -_

I blinked once, returning my attention to the situation at hand. Yang and Pyrrha had been launched into the woods behind us by the blast that had heralded the appearance of the seven women who - I assumed - were Jaune's sisters. To my right was Nora, her grip on the great hammer Magnhild tightening in anticipation. To my left were Ruby, Blake and Weiss each of them tensed and ready to battle.

"Hey, pink stripe. You look like a cool guy so let me make this easier for you. Tell us what Jaune's been up to and we won't murder you." Said a lithe pink haired woman with a sleek but toned body that she was evidently entirely unworried about showing off, if her hot pants, knee high boots and black halter top were anything to go by. She stomped forward with a predatory gleam in her eye, twirling the chain of a Kusarigama around one finger leisurely as if it wasn't a lethal weapon. Nora immediately shifted in front of me, bristling as if struck, but another of Jaunes sisters spoke up then.

"Rose! They're just kids!" A slightly taller woman next to her yelped, her face taking on an affronted look at the very idea. This one was built... differently... than the lithe Rose. She had brown hair tied up in a ponytail and ghostly pale skin. Despite wearing a thick red jacket that came down to her knees and plain jeans that looked as if they were deliberately one size too large, it was easy to tell that she was the most filled out of the seven girls in front of us. I would have tentatively compared her body type to Yang's, except that Yang had worked to have a body builders physique that helped to mitigate her natural assets. This woman was just... jiggly. Yes. That was the best - I glanced at Nora who was suddenly looking at me over one shoulder and decided to shelve the thought for a later date.

 _Embarrassment. Gah! How could I let Nora catch me-_

"Brun. They work for the dick that kidnapped Jaune. Why the hell _shouldn't_ we kill them? Seriously half our problems wouldn't exist if we killed them first." Rose said, rolling her eyes and flashing her canines at us.

"We don't _work_ for anybody. We're students trying to find our friend." Weiss spoke up, clearly irked more at the insinuation that someone else had power over her than anything else.

It was an unfortunate aspect of being a Huntsmen that many of us are painfully ignorant of our own mortality. True we know we _may_ die, and we all accept it, but the duty of a Huntsmen is to fight the beasts of Grimm - mindless creatures with no head for strategy or tactics. In theory, any combat situation involving the Grimm can be solved, because their are a very limited number of actions a Grimm can, or rather, _will_ take. So there is the distinct feeling among many of us that the only way we could ever be killed is by making an obvious mistake - and not because we were genuinely outmatched.

Obviously I didn't categorize myself as one of the many, but it was interesting to watch my fellows react to six fully trained adult Huntresses as though we were equals.

"Pfft yeah right. The percentage of your group with ovaries is so huge I bet he hit on you once and then you ignored him forever after." Rose scoffed. Weiss' eye twitched once as though remembering something and then she scowled, shaking her head free of whatever was running through it.

"If I may speak?" I said, putting myself forward.

"N-" Rose began before Bianca stepped forward, her hair and clothes clearly in disarray from Yangs attack.

"Why did you attack me." She said bluntly.

"We told you, Jaune uses dust crystals like that all the time. We were unaware they could do anything besides destroy everything in a given area." I answered just as flatly. Bianca, I was finding, was a woman after my own heart.

Which is to say, a logical woman who would listen to reason.

Contrary to how I expected my explanation to be taken, all seven sisters glanced at each other once and then turned back to me, their bodies no less ready for a battle than before I had spoken.

"And who taught him how to do that?" She asked pointedly.

"He told us it was a family secret." I replied evenly. She didn't seem convinced.

"It wasn't Ozpin. He fought some... terrorists on the train the Vale - before he ever got to Beacon." Blake supplied, eliciting curious looks from the rest of us as we processed that. Not the fact that Jaune had fought some terrorists - that was easy to imagine him doing given his personality - but the fact that Blake both knew about, and neglected to mention it.

"I told you he had the book..." grumbled the smallest of Jaunes sisters, and the only one who hadn't apparently tried to dye her hair some other color then the usual Arc family blonde.

"That doesn't make sense. Dad said none of us could do Ma-... Stuff like that." Another woman stepped forward. Or I assumed it was a woman. She was so androgynous it was somewhat difficult to tell. In fact, if Jaune hadn't previously stated outright that he had seven _sisters_ I would be tempted to believe the tall, blue haired woman speaking was a very pretty boy. As it was I squinted at her as she spoke, trying to puzzle out what I was looking at. She seemed to catch me staring at her out of the corner of her eye and scowled in my direction, clearly following my gaze to her nonexistent chest area.

"Lily is stupid."

"Soooo stupid."

A pair of synchronous voices called out, as the last of Jaunes sisters made their presence known. A pair of twins evidently. Each wearing frilly dresses with more lace than was really practical, their hair cut into neat bobs and dyed an eye watering lime green.

"H-hey! We're in front if people here! Seriously!" Griped the blue haired woman.

"Where do you think all the nutrients she eats go?" One said.

"Definitely not to her brain." The other replied, both if them ignoring their sisters protests.

"Can't be her chest either Mary." The first twin continued, miming thinking aloud

"Nope, nope. If she was thinking she'd know little Jaune is built different from us Anne." The second said with a condescending chuckle. By this point both groups were watching them, our heads ticking back and forth between them as they traded off speaking roles.

"So different that -" Mary cooed.

"He just might be able to do -" Anne continued.

""Stuff."" They said in unison raising their hands into the air to mark quotation marks around the word. Every word they spoke caused the blue haired Lily to turn redder and redder until she finally exploded, pointing an accusing finger at her sisters and practically howling in indignation.

"Just because he's not here to sew your stupid frilly clothes for you doesn't mean you get a free pass to be bitches!" She yelled.

"Just because you look like I a man doesn't mean _we_ have to." The twins sniffed, continuing to speak in unison. The argument continued on from there, with each hurled insult slow lowering the tension as both groups watched with interest.

The sudden infighting was.. interesting. And it gave me hope that this entire standoff would end in a dialogue, or at the very least, without Nora - or rather, any of us, getting involved in the fighting.

Unfortunately, at that moment two more people chose to walk out of the wrecked Arc household. A short, voluptuous woman that looked so similar to Jaune it was painful - primarily because she exuded a primal aura of -

 _Lust. The things I would do if -_

I blinked once languidly, choosing to pretend nothing had happened. The woman glanced around and nodded approvingly at our group, who were still brandishing our weapons. Then she turned to the man, who was obviously the source of Jaunes own prodigious height. He head plain brown hair and an unshaven face that gave him the appearance of a man who hadn't slept in days, but there was a ferocious intellect lurking just behind those tired eyes. Eyes that seemed to take in the entire situation in moments - and immediately decide how to resolve it.

"What do you think dear?" The woman asked primly.

"I think maybe you raised our kids to be too aggressive..." he said with a beleaguered sigh.

"Nonsense, they've all grown into fine young women." She said with a roll of her eyes.

"Single women dear. Fine, young, s _ingle_ women." The man pointed out, ignoring the glares about half the women present leveled at him as he spoke.

"They have high standards." The older woman said with a sniff.

"Pain tolerance isn't a normal prerequisite for -" the man began as though rehashing an old argument.

"Sweetheart, be quiet and answer the question. As my Caster and not my Husband this time please." She cut him off, raising a hand to stop him.

I knew what was going to happen before she even finished speaking. After all, the person who had suggested we come here did so for a very specific reason. A reason that involved Jaune yes, but more specifically, what Jaune knew about one individual.

One _Caster_.

I understood intellectually that it was a designation and not a name, and therefore might not be referring to this specific person. However, that was because I was informed as to the nature of Jaunes positively insane murder ritual. A ritual that I still had my doubts about, but that all the same, I would assist with.

Nora had already said I would after all.

No more time left to think, I began moving, sprinting forward with every bit of energy I could muster in time to leap forward and and shoulder tackle Blake out of the air.

Because of course, the second she had heard the word 'Caster' she had leapt into an unskilled and poorly thought out overhand strike against the man.

 _Annoyance. Fear. Anger. Could this woman have chosen a worse time to -_

Several things happened all at once then. First, the blade of Roses Kusarigama whipped past in the spot Blake would have landed if I hadn't stopped her, scouring a line in the dirt as she yanked it back towards her with Aura enhanced strength. Second, every other one of Jaunes sisters pivoted towards a member of the Beacon team, lashing out with their weapons and truly beginning the hostilities. And finally, Yang and Pyrrha returned, Pyrrha flinging the blonde from her shield like a yellow missile to slam into Bianca where she had started to gang up on Ruby with Jasmine in a truly brutal clothesline that sent both women back into the forest - this time on the opposite side of us.

I didn't have much time to be worried about anyone else though, as the moment Blake and I hit the ground we were forced to roll away from each other to avoid the ensuing barrage of strikes from Lily. The boyish Arc sibling seemed to materialize from nowhere wielding a golden pommeled saber that she stabbed into the ground where my head would have been had I not moved. I continued to roll away, hoping to make enough space between myself and my attacker to get to my feet, but she kept pace with me, her feet shifting forward using dance like movements that allowed her to punctuate each shift forward with another downward strike.

There was no wasted movement, no hesitation, and clearly very little mercy in the attacks. Grimacing, I rolled one final time before hitting the ground with my right foot hard enough to send my lower body into the air, balanced on my shoulder in a curious upside down fashion. The movement was just barely enough to avoid Lilys follow up attack, which sliced through the air between my legs. Leaving me enough time to bring my legs back down opposite her, completing the awkward flip and righting myself with only minimal damage to my aura.

Machine Pistols still in hand, I eyed the stern faced older woman before me, lowering myself into a combat stance and speaking.

"You know, I really think this is a misunderstanding." I offered, knowing my chances of getting anywhere with words were minute at best.

"You tried to attack my Dad!" She replied indignantly, swishing her saber through the air and then lifting an arm above her head in a salsa dancers pose while pointing the weapon at me. Her face held only a tinge of anger, but her eyes were ablaze with righteous fury. Oddly, the noble anger she was clearly feeling made the dance like movements of her combat style more alluring, almost as if it was designed to be eye catching and pleasurable to witness. Which was foolish because -

I leaned back, barely avoiding the extended blade that had nearly skewered me through the throat and retaliated with a burst of ammunition from my pistols into Lilys gut. Under normal circumstances only one or two bursts like that would be enough to deal with a Human opponent. After all, even an Aura enhanced human is rarely equipped for the pain of being shot, let alone the damage such an attack could cause. In this case though, I felt strongly that it wouldn't be enough.

And not just because Lily retaliated by dancing forward another step and horse kicking my knee so hard it would have bent in the opposite direction without aura to protect me. She wasn't done yet either, using the force of the kick to jump up and over me upside down, her weapon flashing out to mark another slicing blow against my neck that my aura was again forced to bear the brunt of.

I was suddenly face to face with a fact I had already acknowledged. Lily was a Huntress. A fully trained combatant. And I was just a Huntsmen _in training._

I spared a distracted thought for Nora as I squared off with the faster, more competent fighter in front of me. I would keep an ear out for her, and the second I could make an opening, we would team up.

After all, whether it was then, now, or some indeterminate time in the future, it was always going to be just me and Nora. Stronger together than apart.

-ooo-

"Wow you are _crazy_ strong!" I exclaimed as the the stupidly busty one of Jaunes sisters - Brun or something I think - kicked out at me, slamming into the defense I made with Magnhild and launching me away like I had been hit by a train.

"Sorry!" She called before crouching down and kicking off with a mighty step that cratered the dirt beneath her and practically teleported her to my side.

"I have to knock you out so Dad can question you." She explained apologetically raising one leg into the air and then axe kicking down at me. This time, with nowhere else to go, I managed to block it _without_ being fired away like the worlds cutest cannonball. The blow still drove me to my knees in the dirt though, which hurt like hell and nearly jerked my arms out of their sockets.

I was sooooo glad Renny wasn't here. Having to prioritize my safety so he wouldn't flip out and hurt someone was _exhausting._ Sure we had grown up together, and yeah we had learned to fight together, but we didn't fight the same way like, _at all._

"That's cool." I grunted through gritted teeth and a wide smile.

"Do you have a weapon or something? This is kind of embarrassing." I admitted after a couple more seconds of struggling, then abruptly leaned to the side, forcing the leg pressed against the handle of Magnhild to slide away, and giving me enough leverage to thrust upward, pushing my attacker away.

She hurtled backward, and I followed quickly after, swinging my hammer at her face. Realizing I was probably going to hit her, Brun grimaced before abruptly leaning away and falling into a handspring, causing my swing to swish harmlessly overhead.

This was it. This careless sensation. My body simply reacting to outside stimuli. Working on pure instinct like a beast. This was how I truly fought when I was at my best. The heart to Rennys mind.

I was waaay more in tune with my body when I was like this. I could _feel_ the blood rushing through my veins, the synapses in my mind firing at full. Every motion, every action, causing my heart to beat faster and faster until -

"Sorry. I _do have_ one, but you have your whole life ahead of you ya know?" Brun said apologetically with a shrug the second she landed.

"Aw come on, there's no way you're gonna win like this." I pouted, swapping my weapon to it's grenade launcher form. Jaunes sister - Brun - seemed slightly amused by the statement.

"I think its very cute that you believe that." She said dryly.

My eyes narrowed, and - seeing we were probably done talking, I began firing grenades at her. There was no finesse to the maneuver, no tactic or aim. Just pure instinct telling me where to fire. Leading with my shots? Predicting where my opponent would go? None of that stuff was for me. I just fired at the spots that felt good.

Brun launched into action, charging ahead to try to close the distance between us. But as always my instincts made the difference, and the first grenade I fired had bounced off the ground halfway between us, popping up directly in front of the brown haired girls face mid charge and sending her flying backwards with the force of the blast.

The next shot - fired immediately after the first - was no less accurate, landing in the spot Brun inevitably landed and flinging her into the air with the explosion that resulted when the two met.

"Heck yeah!" I cried as I continued to unleash the full fury of Magnhild on the woman. By the time she landed I was fairly certain the fight was over, so I cheerfully lowered my weapon and began reloading, only bothering to look up when I was done.

Which is when she punched me in the stomach so hard I skipped across the ground like a pebble on a lake.

I have no idea how far I traveled because it hurt _way_ too damn much - but during my flight I did catch a glimpse of Ren being beaten into the ground by the blue haired woman. Her sword was pointed downward at his chest and for just the briefest of moments our eyes met.

I could _see_ the moment that stupid boys semblance was no longer capable of holding him back. I used to be able to push him to this all the time when we were kids. We'd spar all the time back then, because there was no one else around to train us. And because - as two children wandering the Grimmlands, we were often forced to defend ourselves. From monsters and from men.

And if there was one thing Ren couldn't wall up and ignore, it was my safety.

God but did I love that stupid boy.

The moment passed quickly, and then I vanished into the treeline, plowing through several trees and coming to a stop against a great oak that had the strength to resist my fall.

Moving hurt. Breathing hurt. Thinking hurt. So I did what I could, and raised Magnhild, aiming her in the direction I knew my attacker would be coming from.

-ooo-

My fight had not gone well. And whats more, I was now forced to accept that their were even odds Lily was just going to kill me instead of subdue me. I had quickly figured out that the majority of her fighting style was designed around feints. Distractions. False attacks. It was where the dance like nature of the movements she was making came from and more importantly, it spoke to having a particular type of enemy in mind.

Humans.

Grimm didn't require this level of trickery, because they could barely grasp the concept of a feint let alone evade one. Which of course meant that Lily either had two fighting styles - or was never trained with Grimm in mind in the first place.

It was a daunting thought, and one I was mulling over as she sauntered towards me, raising her sword high overhead in preparation to stab it down at me. She paused then, clearly thinking about something.

I didn't have much to say at this point myself, much as I would have liked to distract her or concede so she wouldn't plunge her blade into my gut, but I couldn't. My aura was on its last legs, and in the absence of its nurturing strength I was finding it hard to breath. So I remained prone on the ground, gasping desperately for air until Lily spoke.

"Hey. Are you guys really Jaunes friends?" She asked, and there was a complicated expression on her face that spoke of a deeper meaning to the question.

I huffed a few more breaths of air before attempting to make my reply.

"Enough...that we... would go to...war... for him..." I croaked, curious if my vague reference to Jaunes murder ritual would catch her attention.

From the slight widening of her eyes I assumed it did, but very abruptly I had something else to distract myself with.

Because it was at this point that Nora careened past us, her head turning just enough that we could see into each others eyes before she vanished from sight again. That split second was all my mind really needed though, and it rapidly soaked up every detail about her as she passed. She was wounded - bruised in places where some kind of massive attack had pressed her Aura enough to damage her without breaking it. And through it all, she still had that reckless fearless grin on her face.

 _Annoyance. Can't she just take this serio-_

 _Anger. Who did this to-_

 _Hatred. I will never forgive-_

 _Love. I have to get to-_

My semblance, which had seen me through many a tough situation, suddenly became bombarded by feelings that I usually found myself free of. Each one with landed with such intensity that the slow drip of feeling it usually allowed me widened into a stream, and then a _raging torrent_ of feelings and sensations

Pushing me to move, to act, to _attack_.

Lily seemed to notice something in my face, because in the face of my temporary mania her grip tightened on her sword plunging it downward. I didn't even try to dodge. I welcomed it. Accepted it. _Wanted it_. Because the second the blade punched through my right pectoral - I responded. My hands snaked up, one grabbing onto Lilys wrist and the other hitting the ammo selector for my weapon of choice, which I pressed firmly against her chest.

Jaune had once said not to use the stuff he made for us except in emergencies, because of how hideously destructive most of it was. I had seen the results of his work, and I couldn't help but agree with him.

Which was why he had made me the least lethal ammunition he could.

The gravity dust rounds Jaune had made me did one of two things depending on which of my two firearms I used. The left made things heavy, and the right made them lighter. The right was what I fired now, unloading the entire clip into the struggling Lily who began to float from the ground in the absence of the reassuring tug of gravity.

"The fu-" was all she managed to get out, before I raised my feet, and kicked upwards at her, infusing every last bit of the aura I had pulled from my defenses to strengthen the blow. Lily, surprised by my sudden resistance, went flying. And not just metaphorically. If I was really lucky, she'd land somewhere in town ten minutes from now.

Or die. I didn't really care at the moment.

Stumbling to my feet I picked up my other weapon, already feeling the loss of strength in my left arm, and praying the saber still jutting out of me would staunch my bleeding enough to reach Nora. Because that was all that mattered now.

Reaching Nora.

-ooo-

Brun landed in front of me with a crash, apparently having decided to jump after me over everybody else fighting rather than risk getting caught in the crossfire. She opened her mouth to speak, but I was faster, pulling the trigger on Magnihild and sending a grenade flying into her face.

But unlike the first time, this time I hadn't caught her by surprise, and her hand shot up to grab the grenade mid flight. At first I didn't see the point, I mean, it was a grenade right? It was still going to blow up.

But when she squeezed it, and it _did_ explode, there was seemingly no effect on her. No, not _no e_ ffect but... very little.

She strode towards me through the smoke cloud left behind by the blast, streamers of the stuff drifting past her. I fired again, and again, and again.

But the results were the same. Nothing.

"Geeze lady how much Aura do you _have?_ " I asked, genuinely curious. She paused mid-step to look at me like I was stupid, and I got a sudden sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach.

"Quite a bit. But the question is, why do you seem to think I'm using any to defend myself?" She asked after a moment, the sweet tone and expression she had been affecting until now completely gone in the face of her annoyance. I had to stop and think about that for a second before I realized she was right. Even while I'd been lobbing grenades at her, the telltale flicker of Aura had been largely absent from her body.

Seeing the look of dumbfounded shock on my face seemed to satisfy her, because once more she began prowling towards me. I fired the rest of my grenades at her anyway of course. No reason to be stupid and just take her words at face value. Plus, annoying her before she knocked me out was its own kind of victory.

However, before she could reach me, Ren stumbled out of the forest behind her, his head whipping back and forth like a hunting dogs until his eyes landed on me. He was battered, bleeding, and most importantly _had a god damn sword sticking out of him._

Time slowed down around me then. Not literally but... in that sort of way right before your car crashes. Right before a disaster occurs that not everyone is going to walk away from. The thumping of my heart in my chest dimmed, and I could feel the sheer bloody minded enjoyment of a good fight fading away as more pressing matters took hold. Like who had hurt my Renny so bad, and how they wanted to be buried.

With absolute calmness I reached into my ammo pouch, and withdrew the last grenade present. It had a huge red x painted on it, and a paragraph of instructions stenciled into it on the opposite side of the cannister by Jaune - presumably because he was afraid my knowledge of grenades would match his knowledge of dating. Jerk.

"Seriously can we not? They don't hurt me alright? Just... just go to sleep." Brun said, now standing over me with one foot raised to stomp on my head. I guess she hadn't noticed Ren behind her.

"No!" Ren howled, before firing at her with just one hand.

She twitched, stepping out of the way and leaving all the rounds to slam into my Aura. It was a drop in the bucket at this point but it still stung.

"Isn't she your teammate? You both need medical attention if your screwing up this bad" Brun chided Ren like he was a naughty child, and not trying to shoot at her.

"Who said he screwed up?" I said fearlessly, before pull the pin from the grenade in my hand and squeezing tightly. To her credit, Brun merely raised an eyebrow in question as to my suicidal behavior.

But that was only because she didn't know my semblance.

Like the hammer of god himself, lightning erupted around me, the grenade Jaune had made for me doing it's work and flash frying everything withing ten feet. I could feel the electricity coursing through me, my semblance hungrily lapping it up like a thirsty puppy. It reinvigorated me, bringing me to new heights of power, and more importantly, made me strong enough to move around normally even while weighing as much as two city buses. Courtesy of Ren.

Didn't Jaune always say some magic crap or other when he did this? What was it again?

 **"Something something Giants!"** I cried before launching myself at Brun once more. I was faster than her now. And stronger. Punishing blow after punishing blow from Magnhild rained down on her, and from the winces of pain and flashes of Aura coming from her I knew that the fight was over.

And then she pulled a dinky little holdout pistol from her coat. Aimed it at me. And pulled the trigger.

And everything went black.

 **-ooo-**

 **Whats up folks. So were going to be doing the Arc family side of things first. Mostly becuase even though there's more going on, it takes place over a smaller period of time. Meaning it should all be resolved before Jaune finishes up in Mountain Glenn.**

 **Not much else from me, I hope you like this very brief glimpse of the whole Arc clan, You get to see more of the other sisters as we go forward, but for now just the brief bit of characterization at the beginning of the chapter. Let me know how I did on that front, as getting across the personality of a character is something I know I'm not amazing at.**

 **Oh and as always,**

 _ **Thanks for reading.**_


	25. In Lengthy Lectures

**POV: Weiss**

A tremendous blast of light and sound rang out in the distance. The white light rose like a pillar from the earth, rending a portion of the forest barren and sending trees at the periphery of the explosion sprawling into the air as if they weighed no more than simple matchsticks.

My lips pressed into a firm line and my grip tightened on Myrtenaster at the sight of it. Not for the first time since arriving I was forced to reconsider everything Jaune had ever told me about his family. He rarely spoke of them in depth, but I was able to catch a glimpse of his thoughts on the matter. Largely because they were so similar to my own. Like me, Jaune seemed to both crave the love of his family, caring deeply for them - while simultaneously bearing a seething hatred for them. Or rather than hate, a _resentment_ that I wasn't sure even he realized was present. When he extolled his eldest sisters strength it was with a bitterness that I doubted anyone but I would be able to recognize.

And all that was fine and good, but it still failed to fully explain my current headache adequately.

"Are you sure your Jaunes friend?" Anne asked in a sing song voice, swinging the ridiculously huge saber she wielded through the air mere inches from my face. The maneuver would have decapitated me at best and severely depleted my aura at worst - but I had foreseen that and triggered the glyph at my back, drawing me up short.

"Of course I am!" I bit out indignantly, dropping too a knee and executing a perfect thrust at the smaller woman's knee with Myrtenaster. She danced out of the way of course, just like she had the last dozen times I had attempted to attack her.

Also just like the last dozen times, her sister Mary appeared from my blind spot, slamming the barrel of her Musket into my torso and sending me flying across the forest and into a tree. I slammed into it with bone crunching force, and felt more than saw the flash of my aura as it appeared around me, protecting me from probable death.

"It's just your sort of his type you know? Classy bearing, fancy dresses." One of them - I assumed Mary since they seemed to alternate speaking - said.

"And Jaune is just so innocent Anne." The gun toting Mary cooed, instantly proving my supposition wrong.

"Isn't he just though Mary? It would only be too easy for a pretty girl to take advantage of him without his sisters around." Replied Anne in a chirpy girlish tone that nearly made me forget that she was older than me.

"Like that dreadful girl from a few years ago. The one that came to ask him for a date?" Mary said, hefting her impossibly long weapon over one shoulder and leaning in to her sister to whisper conspiratorially with her.

"Oh yes! Horrid woman. It's good we kept her away from Jaune. It would have been a loveless marriage for sure." Anne agreed.

This had been my life since this fight started. The sisters would accuse me of taking advantage of Jaune, we would exchange a few blows, and then Mary would send me flying with her gun. She never actually fired it at me though. Just speared or bashed me with it in a way that left me sure if she _did_ shoot me, the fight would be over. Aaaand then they would set to chatting until I got up and attacked them again.

Basically, they were messing with me. Worse still, I didn't feel like I could defeat even one of them let alone both of them at once.

"Why are you even doing this!? Aren't you hunters!? We're the good guys! We're on the same side!" I cried out in frustration, using my weapon to lever myself up into a standing position. That had been the worst hit I'd taken yet. I didn't know if I could take another one. The knowledge that Jaune wasn't even here and the entire exercise was pointless rankled in my heart, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Oh that's so sweet Mary! She thinks there are 'good guys'!" Anne tittered girlishly at me, stepping forward and swinging her sword down at me in a lazy arc that caused me to lose my footing fall backwards on to my behind.

"We really should educate her. She did say she knew about Mama's ward keys." Mary mused, idly whipping her gun around and planting it in my solar plexus. She then proceeded to lean on it, resting her chin on its butt and holding me down with her body weight.

"Does the word 'Magecraft' mean anything to you?" She said plainly, for once skipping her call and answer routine with her sister. The momentary look of recognition that must have crossed my face did not go unnoticed, and Mary nodded once in approval.

"Mama says there are only a couple Magi left. Three or so including her. These three Magi they all have a deal you see?" Mary said, as though that explained anything.

Seeing the obvious lack of comprehension in my eyes, Mary snorted in exasperation, and Anne took over.

"Magi - much like most _men_ \- only really want one thing. To reach the Root. _That woman_ and Ozpin have their own interests and means that we could really mess up if we wanted to. So Great Grandpa made a deal. As long as we stay neutral, they leave us alone." Anne expounded, swishing her saber through the air like a conductors baton as she spoke.

I had just enough time to wonder how it was possible for Ozpin to have made a deal with anyone over a hundred years ago when the twins entire demeanor changed, switching from playful and annoying to cold blooded and vicious in a heartbeat.

"That's why Jaune has been able to live such a charmed life until now." Mary said, jerking forward and causing my Aura to flare at the increased pressure on my abdomen.

"He was safe -" Anne spat, prancing up to kick me in the side.

"He was pure -" Mary added, lifting and then dropping her gun on my knee with an audible crunch.

"And he wasn't with the old hero on a suicide mission." They finished together in a low tone, both of them practically grinding their teeth - and my bones - with each word. They continued to strike me where I lay, each blow landing like the wrath of an angry god, and it was all I could do to endure through the hellish torture, to bear up with all my willpower. To achieve my goal at any cost, just like I was always taught. The irony of using my fathers teachings to succeed at something he would likely disown me for doing was not lost on me.

"She's out of Aura." One of them noted. I couldn't tell which because at some point during the beating I had curled up to try and protect myself. My arms and legs were drawn in as close to my torso as I could pull them, and my entire body was tense from the strain. With those words the beating stopped, and I was left laying in a quivering, boneless pile.

"We'll take her to Dad. Everyone else is probably done already. They're just kids after all." The other pouted.

"Jasmines younger than them."

"True."

"Hey." I croaked, more than a little delirious because of all the pain I was in.

"It speaks!" They laughed in faux shock.

"...you're both terrible Magi." I said, desperately trying to keep them still while my free hand - hidden under my body - continued to scratch at the dirt beneath me. Silently I cursed Jaune for his stalwart personality. Prior to this the idea of losing the game to win the match was alien to me. I understood it, from a purely business based perspective - you need to spend money to make money after all - but until I had met Jaune and had my pride quashed by my team I would _never_ have allowed myself to fall to such a state.

"We're not- " one of the sisters said with a hint of bitterness in her voice but I cut her off.

"And I'm not out of Aura." I pointed out, causing the foot perched on my back to stiffen and then relax in realization.

"Shes trying to distract us. Doesn't want us to go help beat up her friends." The foots owner chuckled humorlessly. I almost wanted to laugh at the absurdness of that statement. Because if I hadn't learned Magecraft from Jaune it's entirely likely that her statement would _perfectly_ encapsulate my plan. Unfortunately for Mary and Anne however, their brother was an excellent teacher.

Even if he was stupidly dense sometimes.

"My friends don't need my consideration." I coughed, straining to keep my Aura from gushing forth to heal my wounds. I needed everything I had for what happened next. If I couldn't break their defense to land a strike on either of them I would just hit them both at once. If I couldn't reach them with skill I would do it with wit. If I couldn't win as a fighter then I would do it as a Magus. I still wasn't sure if I could rightfully lay claim to that title just yet - but one thing was clear to me. I was more of a Magus than either of these two would _ever_ be. So, with great effort I rolled over - revealing the circle of runes I had barely managed to scribble into the ground with my finger. It was sloppy, and poorly planned out. A clinical part of me that I was focusing on in order to ignore the pain of taking so many strikes without my aura noted that it would be horribly inefficient. But it was what I had - and I was damn proud of it.

My hand traced the circle as I rolled, and I mumbled the first spell Jaune ever showed me. Though, this one was slightly modified.

"Fireball Barrage, twenty feet, four minutes." I managed to get out, opening my swollen eyes to stare up at the sky and praying I had done the math right. Mary and Anne gawked at me for a second before realizing that this was the closest to me they had been since the fight started. The _stillest_ they had been. Without even a word between the two the twins communicated, instantly turning to bolt away, but it was too late.

All around us my semblance sprung to life, dozens of identical red glyphs forming into a seamless dome of thaumaturgical calculations written large across the very air itself. The formation began raining down blasts of fire all around me, faster and faster, draining my aura until it was all but gone. They hammered the sisters into the ground with the sheer concussive force of their detonations, buffeting me where I lay with waves of heat and force.

For four solid minutes I heaved one scorched breath after the other while praying I had calculated the size of my safe space accurately, knowing that without any aura a single hit from my own spell would destroy me. And when it was over, my body paralyzed by tension, I turned my head to find two more bodies breathing haggardly on the ground next to me. Their clothes were scorches, and their weapons lay uselessly at their sides, but they were undeniably Mary and Anne. Smoke hissed up from them in wispy streamers, and I found myself both relieved and annoyed that their auras had held until the last moment, keeping them alive in the face of my attack. Now all three of us were on the ground in a perfectly symmetrical circle of charred black ground.

"Ow." croaked one of the sisters from next to me.

"Yes Mary. Ow." I sniped, my vision beginning to grow hazy as a shadow fell over me, an indistinct form standing over me with narrowed eyes and golden blond hair. As I slipped from consciousness I allowed a smirk to cross my lips. It was probably childish of me to think but I had fought two older hunters to a draw - and _I_ had gotten the last word.

I supposed that this was just barely passable. I _was_ a Schnee after all.

-ooo-

 **POV: Ruby**

Duck. Shoulder tackle. Fire Crescent Rose to avoid counter. Reload mid flight. Don't waste even a single moment. Wide sweep as you land for area denial. Turn to face opponent. Counter the...

"Hey why aren't you attacking me anymore?" I asked perplexed. Jaune's youngest sister Jasmine stood just outside of my scythes effective range, meaning I would have to use her as a rifle or close to melee in order to continue the fight. A few months ago that's exactly what I would have done - blindly charge in with the knowledge that I was the faster person I knew.

It took me exactly one spar with Blake to drop _that_ habit. Now I knew that both actions would leave me open to retaliation. The split second between mechashifting and firing being more than enough for a good fighter to capitalize on.

"Aren't you too young for Beacon?" Jasmine said abruptly, her face deceptively calm. She twirled one of her two tonfa in one hand, an idle motion that would allow her to put extra force into even a light tap from the twirling weapon. I had to admit, it was kind of cool to split up and have everyone fighting worthy opponents and stuff. It made me feel like a comic book character and filled me with the need to yell fancy attack names whenever I struck. It was an impulse held back mostly by the sour knowledge that I - being the youngest of the team - ended up fighting a thirteen year old.

Even if she talked like a fifty year old and fought like a demon. Seriously Jaune's Dad, what do you feed your kids? Why do they have so much aura? _And why does this thirteen year old have more of a chest than me!?_

"Aren't you like thirteen? Don't you still think boys are icky or something?" I shot back. Under normal circumstances I would probably have been too excited for the banter - those shotgun tonfa were soooo cooool - but Weiss had been an excellent trial by fire as far as banter went.

"Why does everyone say that when I'm right?" Jasmine said with an irritable click of the tongue, backing up slightly when she noticed me using the distraction of the conversation to edge forward.

"I know right!?" I couldn't help but blurt out, reminded as I was about every argument I ever lost ending somehow with 'she doesn't know any better'.

"And then when you try to explain they're all like 'Just be quiet Ruby Rose your too young.' I mean, I'm old enough to own a gun but not watch TV after eight!?" I complained, one cheek puffing out in annoyance.

"You too!? Bianca keeps telling me I shouldn't do stuff 'cus she said so, or because I have to, and then when I ask why she just gets mad at me!" Jasmine said, her face lighting up. Her guard didn't drop though, and neither did mine, which was just fine by me.

"I knooooow. If you can't even explain 'why' then how do you know your even-" I paused mid sentence, Jasmine and I twirling out of the way of Yang as she sped between us, turning a nearby tree into kindling and vanishing just as fast as she arrived. A few seconds later Bianca strode past, stopping between us to examine our condition and then shrugging before she continued after my sister.

"Is... she won't kill her or anything right?" I asked with some worry. Bianca was the oldest and therefore, probably the best trained of Jaune's sisters. I loved my family but I wasn't nearly stupid enough to think Yang was going to come out of that one on top.

"Doubt it. She's not even using Cantankerous Thing or her... uh. Other weapon." Jasmine commented, her brows drawing together to form an upside down V on her forehead.

"Other weapon?" I asked cautiously and not at all because the tiny glimpse of Bianca's weapon I'd gotten before the fighting started made me feel all kinds of ways.

"Don't worry about it. It's a - "

"Family secret. Yeah, yeah. Jaune said the same thing. Stingy." I complained, finishing the thought for her. She looked at me strangely then, as though seeing me for the first time. We stood in tense silence for a second - and then she spoke.

"Shit, your _actually_ his friends?" Jasmine said incredulously.

"Well duh." I answered simply.

"But hes a dork!" She exclaimed, her stance loosening slightly.

"Yeah, but he's _our_ dork." I said proudly figuring we could stop fighting now. Too late I realized the profound effect my words had over Jasmine, because between second and the next she appeared in in front of me, her tonfa spinning towards my head.

I leaned out of the blow, sweeping Crescent Rose in front of me at her midsection. Her aura was still present, so instead of cutting her in half (ew gross) it simply flung her away from me a few feet, giving me space to recuperate.

"Hey! I thought we were bonding!" I griped aloud.

"We were." Jasmine replied honestly, clutching at her side where I had hit her.

"But your wrong about something. He's not your dork. He's mine." She declared, retaking her stance.

"Oh. Your one of _those."_ I said warily. Then we sprinted towards one another once more, the discourse over.

-ooo-

 **POV: Yang**

Fuck. Shit. God dammit.

Why are their so many god damn trees around Jaune's house? Is there a grant or something for Hunters that keep painful obstacles on their property?

My fists hurt. My face hurt. My whole damn body hurt. And that was fine, because my semblance was spooled up to maximum. I was almost literally on fire I was so gassed up. Supernova did not begin to cover it. Every bit of damage from getting bounced around this stupid forest was converted into strength by my semblance. Every smashed tree, every body blow, every hit I took, fueling me onward. I was unstoppable. I was untouchable. I was a juggernaut that would not be stopped.

"So why the hell can't I _hit you!"_ I screeched, pulling my head out of the tree it had landed in on my most recent tumble. I say 'tumble' because describing it as the painful result of a bitch slap would make me angry.

Angrier than I already was I mean. I was pretty pissed.

"Because you're a first year student who can't keep her cool under pressure." A cold sardonic voice answered me. I whipped around to find Bianca standing placidly behind me, her weapon still slung over her back as though she had no intention of using it.

 _That_ pissed me off.

"Please, you don't know anything about me." I quipped, noticing bits of wood and dirt stuck in my hair from the fall. I could feel my eye twitching just _thinking_ about the hell it was going to be to take care of it later.

Which _really_ pissed me off.

"I know enough. I know your weak. Hilariously, pathetically, weak." Bianca said, tilting her head towards the wreckage my passing had caused for emphasis.

Ah. There goes rational thought. It was nice while it lasted.

All pretense of civility left me, and I flung myself forward, firing Ember Celica and propelling myself at my white haired detractor. I feral yell erupted from my throat as I charged, my arm outstretched in a other clothesline that I was sure would knock the smug look of superiority off of Bianca's face.

This time. This time for sure it would work. It _always_ worked eventually. That's how my semblance _worked_. If it didn't kill me it made me stronger. Honestly, only the fact that Pyrrha was in my class stopped me from declaring myself the perfect Huntress.

I closed with Bianca in the blink of an eye, and was sadly disabused of my delusions of grandeur when her hand shot up to grab my own, and she twisted her body away, maintaining my momentum and slinging me at a downward angle directly into the dirt six feet away. I had just enough presence of mind to maneuver my shoulder under me so my face wouldn't absorb the impact and then I crashed. Dirt flew into the air like a jack hammer had just hit the earth, and pain tore through me.

"DAMMIT!" I cursed, flipping over and pushing myself up to aim a shaky arm at Bianca, firing repeatedly at her with dust power shotgun shells. In response she finally - _finally_ \- pulled her weapon from her back, using it to block the shots. By the time I had run out of ammo the shiny black case had finally given up the ghost. Bits of it hung from the massive canon... engine block... _thing,_ like wet paper, completely destroyed by my barrage.

"Not so weak that you can fight me without a weapon huh Big Bee?" I chortled, the grin returning to my lips. And then, because I was both angry _and_ stupid - I continued.

"Not weak enough that you can take Jaune from us either." I sneered. It was the wrong thing to say and I knew it. Whatever else, these people were Jaune's family, and Bianca had clearly been falling apart trying to find him when we had first met her. Heck, if Ruby went missing I'd move heaven and earth to find her.

So I wasn't _really_ surprised when Bianca's expression changed from disinterested to murderous and back again. Nor was I surprised when she pointed whatever the hell her weapon was at me and hit a button on the handle, causing an eight inch wide gun barrel to pop out of it.

What _did_ surprise me was the fact that, after she pulled the trigger and fired what turned out to be a clearly explosive round at me, I didn't die.

I say that, because between one thought and the next, the vast majority of my aura faded away, and I was left seeing spots and fighting down nausea. I blinked and forced down the sensation, willing my body to get its shit together so I could put all the strength I'd just gained from the blast to work.

When my vision cleared, Bianca was hovering over me her canon thing held aloft over my head. I grit my teeth, using every ounce of my titanic strength to push myself up and away - but Bianca merely stepped forward, pressing her boot into my chest and shoving me back down like I was an infant.

Real genuine fear filled me, as I took in the huge axe blade sticking out of the bottom of her weapon, and realized it was positioned over my _neck_ and not my head. Like a guillotine about to reap my life. I struggled beneath her, kicking and screaming - and then she dropped it. As casually as if she were leaving her keys on the table.

And then for the third god damn time today, I blinked, and was just somewhere else. I was still on the ground - which was bad - but I wasn't dead - which was good. A dull thud and a glance to the right told me I hadn't actually gone all that far from Bianca, which was bad. And there was a stranger there, wearing blood red armor and wielding a wicked looking katana.

Which was... something.

I would have figured the stranger would start fighting her now - I mean, she took the time to save me so she probably wouldn't leave me in the lurch here. But instead she just turned her head fractionally to look at me through a bone white mask, clearly designed to emulate a Grimm. Her raven dark hair swished behind her as she moved, impractically long for a melee fighters. Just like mine. Raven hair...just like mine.

"M-" I croaked but was cut off by Bianca's oh so timely friggin greeting.

"...hello Auntie." She said cautiously, her eyes flicking back and forth between me and the stranger like she too was suddenly making a connection between the two of us. The stranger just shook her head, glancing back once more at me.

"Right. Apologies. I let my anger get the better of me." Bianca said, her posture turning nervous and skittish even though her tone remained flat.

The stranger just nodded in understanding, then began to walk back into the woods, clearly intending to leave.

"Tell Vernal I said hello." Bianca called after her weakly, her gaze falling to me like I was a particularly difficult to solve math problem.

It was only after the shock of the past couple minutes had worn off and the strange woman had vanished into the woods that I spoke, my mind having gone blank in the heat of the moment. Under my breath I muttered, a word I thought I would never have the opportunity to use again coming unbidden to my lips.

"Mom?"

 **-ooo-**

 **Soooo. I know these chapters feel fillerish but they serve a purpose. More importantly, id your paying attention you'll be able to pick some of the history involved out of the various conversations going on here, as well as hints on exactly what Jaunes dad did with his sisters.**

 **If it surprises anyone that Raven and the Arcs know each other in this setting then I implore you to consider. Juniper both knows about and wishes not to be a part of Ozpins eternal crusade. She also, relative to my canon at least, went to school at the same time as Team STRQ. You have to figure thered be some interaction there.**

 **One more chapter oughta wrap this bit up and then we get into mountain glenn, which will be much more Archer focused than past chapters have been.**

 **In other news Ive started to go back and edit chapters of Deku 10 to bring them into line with the quality (?) of writing you see here in Throne of Heroes. Deku 10 was originally a project completely devoid of forethought - it was pretty much me just regurgitating bite sized chunks of my chapter ideas onto a document and then posting it. If you think this fic has typo problems then god christ avoid Deku 10. I dunno how long I'll take but when I'm done the word count will have changed significantly and you'll sew much fewer grammatical and spelling errors when I'm done.**

 **Oh and as always.**

 ** _Thanks for reading._**


	26. With Brutal Blows

**POV: Blake**

There are some things that only make sense after a great deal of consideration.

Jaune and I weren't strictly 'friends'. We hung out in the same rough friend group. We were... amicable... when we spoke. And I admit there have been times his antics have made me laugh.

But I have never once allowed myself to forget how he looked when he destroyed Adam. Not defeated, not killed - _destroyed._ Like it wasn't any more troubling then taking out garbage. He was impassive, aloof, and overall apathetic that day. I haven't seen that expression or the great black bow that accompanied it ever since. And truthfully, I was thankful for that.

Because I had enough trouble suppressing the absolute terror he inspired in me as is.

Finding out that he had been captured and tortured by a psychopath named Caster was scary because it implied there existed a much bigger predator than the innocent looking killer that was Jaune. It should have been exactly the incentive I needed to keep my head down and mind my own business. I just wanted to be a huntress and use my skills to help people. Mass murdering serial killers were _not_ my responsibility.

Only Caster was killing _faunus_ and the White Fang was getting blamed for it. So instead of doing the smart thing and staying out of it, I was here. In Ansel. Where it turns out Jaune's Dad was Caster.

And really that pretty much explained everything I needed to know about why Jaune had run away from home to join Beacon. For one I was _very_ aware of the condition they found Jaune in. Any parent that could do that to there own kid was definitely worth escaping.

"Are you done?" A mans exasperated voice called out from behind me. Which was impossible because I had _definitely_ just stabbed him in the neck. Instead of mentally debating the possibility of the movement, I activated my semblance and rolled to the left, leaving behind an image of my self that would remain in motion for a few seconds and cloaking myself from sight.

Now free to act, I whipped around to examine my enemy. Who... had a gaping wound in his neck. Which would have been relieving if he seemed at all worried about it. The few seconds of stunned silence were apparently enough for the shaggy haired man to locate me, because he pointed his sword at the ground by my feet, leaving me only a fraction of a second to leap out of the way before the very earth itself rose up to grasp at my feet.

"Not super chatty huh?" Jaune's father groused, raising a hand to swipe at the wound on his neck and rubbing it off like it was no more dangerous to him than an ink stain. Wherever his hand passed the wound simply ceased to be, and when it he was finally done the hand he had done it with dropped down to his side lazily.

"You know, I'm actually pretty sure that you _literally_ can't kill me." He called towards me, pivoting haphazardly on one foot to face me and causing me to halt in my tracks. I had no idea how had he known where I was. I spent half the time I was fighting him basically invisible because of my semblance, and I had years of practice sneaking about under the White Fang. Whats more, the man didn't seem to have an Aura. If I managed to stab him it just wounded him as though he was a normal person. It just didn't matter because apparently he could ignore fatal wounds long enough to get rid of them. A semblance maybe? Could I take advantage of that? How much damage could he negate before -

"Seriously with this now? Look I'm gonna get back to you on this whole needless fight thing." He said with a roll of his eyes.

The second he turned I knew that was my chance. I hurled Gambol Shroud forward, the chain thrusting past Caster and wrapping around him even as I sprinted forth from my cover. I made it to him in two loping steps, the improved strength and speed of a huntress allowing me to cross the distance in the blink of an eye and lash out with my weapons sheathe. Of the few positive things I had taken away from my increasingly brutal time with Adam, one of them was the tendency to treat the sheath of my weapon like well... a weapon. It was exactly a sword, but it was filed down and sharp enough to cut a soft target in a pinch.

Just before I landed the attack I tugged hard on the chain of Gambol Shroud, pulling Caster off balance and allowing me to cut him horizontally once without any fear of reprisal. This time though, instead of pulling back to let the killing blow do its work, I pressed the attack. I used my semblance to vanish from sight and rolled behind the man, unraveling the chain from around him to reclaim my weapon and positioning it at the base of his spine. The red dust I had used with my semblance caused my doppelganger to explode with a blazing fury, pushing him back towards me and directly onto Gambol Shroud. I changed the angle of the weapon as I pulled it out, severing his spine as it exited, then spun to the side and out of the way of his body as it fell to the ground.

I watched his body carefully as it fell, waiting for any sign that he was going to shrug off the attack. But it never came. He simply fell to the ground limply, like a puppet with its strings cut.

I waited a few moments more, barely resisting the urge to spit on the corpse, then turned away to go to my friends. God knows they would need my help. I made it only a few steps away when someone else stepped into view. The buxom blonde woman who I was led to believe was Jaune's mother walked briskly up to her husbands corpse with a blank look on her face, hefting Weiss unconscious form easily over her shoulder. The heiress and I had - much like Jaune - not been altogether _that_ close. But she was definitely a friend. Which meant there was no way I could leave her with a distraught psychopath who was likely just now realizing her husband was dead.

Juniper stared blankly at her husbands corpse for a few more seconds, before - to my surprise - she nudged his head with her foot. It rolled to the side lifelessly, or so I thought, until I noticed its eyes. It blinked once, the pupils bouncing back and forth like they held a life of their own. I found myself staring into those fathomless eyes. Looking deeper and deeper, never once noticing them stop spinning, locking onto to me with a ravenous light to them.

And then Juniper kicked the dead man's skull with a snort.

"I'm right here dear. This ones dead, you'll have to send up another." She said with a roll of her eyes. Her hand whipped down to her jewel encrusted belt, her thumb caressing one of the crystals in a motion so familiar it almost -

Eyes widening I lunged forward, hand outstretched to fire Gamble Shroud, but was stopped short as a tremendous pressure fell over me. My hand froze along with the rest me, my finger barely grazing the trigger of my weapon. I shuddered with effort, struggling against it, desperately trying to break free. But I simply couldn't. I shook violently against my restraints, but they constricted, tighter and tighter squeezing the breath from my chest.

Juniper gently laid Weiss against the ground, then walked over to stand above me. My vision was growing dark, my mind growing hazy, but I was still conscious enough to hear;

"Honestly. Such ruthless little friends Jaune's made."

And then the last threads of of consciousness escaped my grasp - and I blacked out.

-ooo-

 **POV: Pyrrha**

My blood _sang_ as I advanced, my footwork steady and firm. I took a half step to the right, maintaining my weight on my back foot to offset the force of Rose's weapon as it clashed against my shield. In the split second before the two objects broke contact, I flicked my shield arm outward whipping the blunt weighted end of the chain she had thrown at me to the side and forcing my opponent to twist into a spinning maneuver to maintain control of it.

The exchange finished, I tool another steady step forward.

This was it. The feeling I had chased all the way to the top of the tournament circuit. The _thrill_ of combat at the highest level. The pure unadulterated passion two fighters could place behind their actions. It would be so _easy_ to prolong this. To make it last as long as I could. To savor the simple sensation of iron meeting flesh in one more death defying exchange of strikes.

I took another step forward, using the delay caused by my previous deflection to swap my spear into its rifle form. My stance changed, and I brought my shield into the center of my body, resting my firearm on it and shooting quick targeted blasts at Jaune's sister.

It wasn't what I wanted to do. It wasn't the sheer bloody minded slug out that I wanted to engage in, that I _always_ wanted to engage in, but it was what I _knew_ would win me the day with minimal damage to my aura. Because as always, I had people relying on me to do so. To be responsible.

Rose only took a one or two rounds of ammunition against her Aura before catching on to my tactics. It wasn't the first time she had done so and adjusted accordingly, the manic grin on her face growing wider with each passing moment.

"This! This is what I'm into!" She cried out euphorically, leaping to the side and running for the cover of the dilapidated house behind her.

"You can feel it right!? I know you can! Your like me! A complete _fucking_ junky!" She yelled from ahead of me, having jumped over some rubble and landed in a crouch, completely removing herself from my sight.

"I don't know that I would call myself that exactly..." I murmured, somewhat indignantly. Honestly, it should be fairly obvious to anyone that knows me I like fighting. I just don't like _pointless_ fighting. It was so strange that no one seemed to grasp that about me. My family thought I fought for their honor. My manager thought that I fought for money. My friends thought that I didn't like fighting in the first place. But with lukewarm feelings like that how could _anyone_ think I became as good as I was? It certainly wasn't talent. God knows that outside of training and fighting, my manager and father were really the only people that made up my social life.

"But you know I don't get it! I keep leaving you these openings to _really_ get into it, and every

Damn. Time. You pull back to play 'safe'." Rose yelled, drawing me from my thoughts. Not once had I allowed the bulk of my attention to fall from where she was hiding, but her words drew me up short. Leaving me an opening? What was she talking about? I had created every opening I took advantage of. Half of those mistakes would have been fatal for someone with less aura. Only an idiot or someone supremely skilled would -

My eye twitched and I reflexively pulled the trigger on my rifle in shock as Rose launched herself _through_ the rubble at me. Not by blowing it apart or damaging any of it - she simply phased through it like a ghost in the night. By the time I had registered what was happening my body had already taken point, unloading all of my remaining ammunition into the oncoming threat.

It was all useless of course, in a single bound Rose had closed the distance with me, and my shots passed through her as harmlessly as the rubble had. Again I reflexively leaned into the charge, steadying my shield in preparation for the inevitable attack. But instead of striking me, Rose stopped mere inches from me, hopping once and flying _through_ me. Faster than I could respond she flicked her wrists, drawing the chain of her weapon up and around my throat from behind. Her knee jammed itself into the small of my back and she put all her wait on my throat.

It was all I could do to stop my knees from buckling under the force arrayed against me. Gritting my teeth I hurled my shield away, using my newly freed hand to grasp at the chain around my neck.

"Hey, hey, let me explain it to you alright? My semblance, when its on, I pass through pretty much everything." Rose crooned into my ear.

"I'm gonna let you go in a sec 'kay? Do me a favour and don't blue ball me here? If your not gonna let me get my jollys then I'm just gonna kill you and move on." She warned, ignoring the choking noises I was making while she continued to strangle me.

There was probably more to her semblance than that - only an idiot explains their semblance to an enemy - but I didn't really _care_ at that point. I had been fighting so hard, and she hadn't even been _trying_. In fact, she had been holding _back_.

The knowledge was like a shot of adrenaline directly to my soul. She was holding back. She was stronger than this. _I didn't need to control myself anymore._

With a feral yell I tugged on my shield, using my semblance to create and electromagnetic corridor between Rose's head and the sharpened metal disc. The results were immediate, as my shield picked itself off the ground and rammed into her, rebounding off of her aura and dazing her long enough for me to slip from her grasp.

I wasted no time, dropping low to the ground and lashing out with the butt of my weapon, attempting to crack my opponent in the knee and keep her off balance. The blow missed however when Rose hopped into the air slightly, causing it to sail harmlessly through her leg as if she wasn't even there. My eyes narrowed remembering each time she had used her semblance. Did she have to jump for it to work? Or could she use it on the ground at the risk of falling through the earth?

Either way, I had no more time to consider, as I had to roll backwards to avoid a sudden downward attack from the scythe like end of her chain. I came out of the evasive maneuver in a hand spring, thrusting myself to my feet and already prepared for the blunt weight of Rose's next attack.

"That's more like it!" She roared, as the distance between us continued to narrow down, until we were practically dancing through counter strikes together. I quickly fell into a rhythm, hearing nothing, _seeing_ nothing but my opponent, and her movements.

"This is the best thing Jaune's ever given me! This! This right here! Fuck Grimm, fuck the world, fuck everything! All that matters is the thrill! The sheer bloody minded joy of the thing!" Rose continued cackling madly. As we clashed once more and I used my semblance to thrust her away from me.

"We are nothing alike." I bit out, ignoring the coppery tang of blood filling my mouth.

"Bitch please, this is better than sex! Better than any drug! Tell me I'm wrong!" Rose hissed back at me and I recoiled at the obvious arousal in her voice.

"I'm fighting _for_ something." I yelled back at her, barely noticing my voice crack as I did so. My heart wasn't really in it anyway. I was too busy plotting out my next moves, predicting how Rose would react to them, and then changing my plan accordingly.

Rose looked at me for a second dumbfounded, then started laughing maniacally like I had just told an amazing joke.

"You're kidding right? Look at yourself! Your smiling like you just got laid and ate a five star meal!" She chortled waving a hand dismissively at me. I bristled at the crass accusation.

"Say what you want, my friends -" I started, still mostly focused on using the conversation to edge forward and re-engage in combat.

"Your friends are _right there_. You could have knocked me away and gone to them ages ago. But you didn't because we were having waaaaay to much fun." Rose purred, pointing behind me to the destroyed side of the Arc family home.

I jerked backwards, aborting my attempt at a forward charge, and whipped my head around to gawk behind me, not even considering if Rose had been trying to trick me or not.

There, laid against the wall of the building like puppets with their strings cut were all my friends. They were all breathing - thank god for that - but some of them, Nora in particular, looked like they had been run through a blender. Her clothes hung from her body like tattered rags, and she was clearly bruised in over a dozen places. To their side stood the rest of the Arc family, some more damaged than others, but all of them being tended to lovingly by their Father, who flitted between them like a particularly persistent fly applying ointments and soothing words.

For the briefest of seconds I considered turning back to Rose. Continuing my fight. It was obvious that she was still ready and waiting for me to attack, just like it was obvious that none of her sisters planned on interfering.

And then my breath hitched as I really considered that train of thought. Wasn't that _exactly_ what Rose had been accusing me of? She had as much as said that I didn't care about my friends as long as I was having a good fight. And that, just wasn't true.

Was it?

 _'Are you satisfied? I can step in any time if you are no longer entertained. Some of your lover's sisters could do with some... chastisement.'_ Rider said, reminding me for the first time since this had begun that she was still present and awaiting my orders.

Something told me however that bringing out a Servant would only serve to escalate the situation. Not to mention eliminate the element of surprise.

I stared forlornly at my friends for a moment, then back to Rose, and finally, at Juniper Arc as she came in to view peering at me with one eyebrow raised.

 _'How many of us could you escape with on your Chariot?'_ I asked her silently.

 _'No more than two. Assuming that one would even let me.'_ She replied instantly, and I just knew she was talking about Nicholas Arc. Something about the man was just plain unnerving, even if he was presently getting chewed out by his daughters for being 'annoyingly clingy'.

'That's that then...' I thought to myself, finally turning back to Rose, and dropping my weapon. The look of obvious outrage as I raised my hands into the air in surrender was _almost_ priceless. The sharp look from her mother that nailed her to the ground when she made as though to attack me anyway was even more gratifying.

With a gleam in her eyes, Juniper Arc pulled a scroll out of her pocket, and quickly dialed a number, then let her hand dropped to her belt, caressing several of the jewels there in an almost absent minded fashion. As the call began to ring, a rumbling began, first at her feet, but then eventually spreading to the entire house. I blinked twice in amazement, seeing for just a moment a much more severe looking blond woman standing before me, as the entire Arc household reassembled itself.

Then there was a click, and Juniper spoke in a pleasant throaty voice that completely belied the angry furrowing of her brows.

"Ozpin? I believe I have something that belongs to you."

-ooo-

 **POV: Jaune**

"Whats the plan?" I asked Qrow once it seemed the cost was clear and all we had to worry about were the Dolls guarding the entrance to the tunnels beneath the city.

"Are there any magical defenses?" He asked gravely, his attention turning from our hiding spot in the dilapidated building to me with a razor sharp focus I hadn't previously thought it was possible for the cranky drunk to display.

I considered the question for a second. _I_ didn't detect anything, but my talents leaned more towards research and development than sapper work.

 _'Archer?'_ I asked the Servant hesitantly. He had become painfully quiet in the last little while, enough so that I was beginning to worry. Usually he would have tried to convince me to back out of this by now.

 _'It's a workshop down there. You can't see it from here but there's some heavy duty protection on the place. If you go through the entrance you'll get trapped running in circles by a curse on the stairs down.'_ He reported seriously. I relayed his words to Qrow as he spoke but otherwise ignored the older man, pretending I was distracted examining something.

 _'And the curse? On the city?'_ I pushed, not for one moment having forgotten that he had said he knew what caused it. Or thought he did anyway.

 _'It was the Grail. Someone tried to cheat and failed.'_ Archer answered with a mix of exasperation and anger.

 _'Cheat... how?'_ I queried.

 _'Not important right now Jaune. Deal with Caster first.'_ Archer snapped back at me. I felt my lips press together in a frown, and wanted to argue the point but held my tongue. If he said it wasn't relevant then I'd take his word for it. I would just have to remember to ask him about it later - I didn't for one second think the jerk would bring it up again unprompted.

"Anything else you can tell me?" Qrow asked. I didn't bother repeating the question because by then Archer had already returned to us, and had heard it for himself. He appeared next to me shaking his head wearily.

 _'Nothing. Can't get any further in without tripping the wards. I'll say this though - I can hear a lot of screaming down there.'_ He said grimly.

"I got nothing. I'd have to go further in which would trip the defenses." I summarized for Qrow, not really having a way to explain the screaming to him without revealing Archer's presence.

"Good. Wait by the outer wall for Amber, then send her after me." Qrow said, clapping me on the shoulder and rising to sneak past me in the opposite direction of the entrance.

"Wait what? Where are you going? What do _I_ do?" I asked hurriedly jumping up to follow him.

"Nothing. Point Amber in my direction, then start running for Beacon. Call Oz as soon as you get in range for your scroll to work." Qrow answered, not even bothering to look back at me.

"Are you stupid? You'll die down there by yourself!" I hissed at him.

"Look Jaune, I like you, but you're a first year student. If I was going to die down there, your presence wouldn't change that." Qrow shot back, stopping in the middle of a crumbling intersection and channeling Prana for a moment before shuffling a few steps to his right.

"That excuse doesn't work when you drag me out here in the first place you dick! How are you even going to get in without someone to dispel the curse on the stairs?!" I said, yelling at him in that hushed way that doesn't actually go above speaking volume, but is still good enough to convey anger in a tense situation.

"Easy. The bad hoodoo is only on the stairs, right?" Qrow asked, affecting a relaxed tone and stretching as though he was preparing for a fight - which I guess he kind of was.

"Maybe? I don't have x-ray vision so it's kind of hard to tell." I snarled still not sure what the drunkard was planning.

"This place is falling apart you know. One wrong move, bit of bad luck, and -" He said with a smirk as the concrete beneath him cracked, shattering under his heel in a single well placed stomp that created a Qrow sized hole in the ground - which he promptly fell through as though he had planned for it. Which I guess he had but... damn.

I stared in disbelief at the space he once occupied, my mouth half open in disbelief. After a few seconds I stepped gingerly forward, peering down into the inky blackness below and seeing no sign of Qrow.

I looked back, towards the wall where Qrow had told me to wait for Amber, then back into the hole.

"I swear to god when I get back I'm going on vacation. No Magecraft. No insane suicide missions. Just nice, boring, history homework." I growled, flexing Flamen Volcanalis and reciting my Aria under my breath. When the Mystic Code was fully active and humming with energy, when the swarm of multicolored blades that were the culmination of all my research were arrayed behind me, I took a deep breath.

And then I took the plunge.


	27. Of Curses & Crows

I landed in a tunnel so black and devoid of light that I actually failed to come up with an adequate way to describe it at first. It wasn't a long fall, a scant fifteen meters down - a distance that was easy to handle with just a touch of reinforcement. But the darkness surrounding me was so thick that it almost had a physical weight. It pushed against the bar of light streaming down from the hole above me as though pushing back an enemy invasion. Even the dull glow of my forged dust blades as they fanned out around me, covering as many angles as I could concentrate on, was somewhat smothered by it.

'Stygian.' Archer intoned from where he appeared next to me, scanning the area with his superior eyesight.

'What?' I asked, the servants single word dragging me from my own sweep of the surroundings long enough to throw a quick glance at him.

'The word you're looking for. It's Stygian.' Archer said his expression remaining neutral.

That… worked I guessed. It certainly evoked the right feeling. The problem was, this was a Magus workshop. It was ominous enough on its own without that kind of descriptor attached to it.

'Watch my back, and... tell me the second we need to switch.' I said shaking off the mild feeling of dread and orienting myself in the direction I thought lead to the main rail line.

'Understood.' The servant responded, his eyes never once turning towards me.

The tunnel was eerie. It was clearly an old maintenance tunnel - not an actual rail line so much as a way for for the workers who would be expected to take care of the line to get around without having to worry about being splattered by the train. It stretched out to my left and right for a seemingly infinite distance, all echoes and occasional skittering noises. I had to wonder if creepy places like this somehow called out to bad guys to inhabit them, or if the bad guys made places like this feel as shitty as they did by setting up shop. Sort of a chicken or the egg question really. Is the Blood Citadel really a Blood Citadel while being built, or only _after_ the evil Vampire moves in?

Realizing I was distracting myself so I wouldn't have to think about how objectively scary this all was, I shook off the errant thoughts. With careful, quiet steps I moved forward, shield at the ready and all of my weapons pointed forward. I wasn't stupid - Flamen Volcanalis was my mystic code, the catalyst for my most powerful ability - but it also _literally_ glowed. I wasn't going to sneak up on anyone that was actually looking for me. Or was looking for anything. Or... _had eyes_. The only reason I was moving at the steady pace I was going at, was because Archer should be able to detect any incoming enemies long before they came into vision range for any mere mortal.

It took me a solid fifteen minutes of steadily walking forward that way to realize that these tunnels were long, winding, and probably not so full of bad guys that I was going to encounter one any time soon. That realization quickly led to anxiety as I continued to think of progressively worse and worse scenarios that could play out when I finally found Qrow. Not for the first time I was glad I had put all that effort into making my Mystic Code workable in the long term, instead of a one shot wonder. If I had been working with the techniques I had when I first arrived at Beacon I would have used up all my power by now. And I sure as hell wasn't going to turn my primary means of attack off in _this_ place.

'So... you used to do this type of thing alot?' I asked Archer, desperate for a distraction while I continued my careful march.

'Yes.' He answered succinctly.

'That's it? Just 'yes''? I griped. I knew that Archer didn't like talking about himself. The memories of his younger self made that fact abundantly clear. Even though I found the entire thing amazingly confusing. I mean, if I had it right - which I might not since I was trying to piece together a timeline based on shit Archer thought I didn't notice and my own dreams of his past - then he had basically gone back in time to try and assassinate himself. I had _no_ idea why, and I had no idea why I was seeing those memories from his younger selves perspective when I dreamt - but at the very least that much was obvious, if convoluted.

'...Yes.' He said after a momentary pause to shoot me an annoyed glare. And I just wasn't having that today. I was cold, I was in the middle of a dead city, and there was a reasonable chance the local magus was going to eviscerate me with a spoon - Archer was going to throw me a bone or he was going to deal with being _massively_ inconvenienced.

'Archer I get that you have issues or whatever, but throw me a god damn bone. Decide if your going to be a prick all the time or not and then stick with it instead of occasionally acting like you have a heart.' I sniped at him. And it was true too. The Servant of the Bow bounced back and forth between being oddly comforting in a douchey way to being... a huge douche with no redeeming qualities. It was so starkly different to my memories of his younger self that it was sort of off putting.

'Really. Right now is the moment you want to do this.' Archer shot back at me flatly. Something I had said must have touched a nerve because his eyebrow was twitching slightly as he turned towards me.

'Well I don't freaking know! I could die today!' I said, using the psychic equivalent of a yell.

'To be a Magus is to walk with-' He started sagely.

'Yeah, yeah. Spare me the spiel Archer.' I cut him off. He seemed pretty put off by the interruption, and just my general flippancy, but I couldn't help it. I had alot on my plate on any given day, and as much as I knew Archer had my back, he was also amazingly tight lipped for no obvious reason. I understood why he did it in _his_ Grail War. He was basically trying to screw everyone involved at the time. But I _wasn't_ Shirou Emiya, and there was literally no way that this situation could be parlayed into killing the guy.

'Fine. Here's a story for you then.' He said snapping back at me with a scowl on his face. No doubt having just reasoned everything I just had and realizing that he was being a prick _for no god damn reason_. Or maybe just out of habit. Man. What kind of life makes you a _habitual_ asshole?

'It was... I think three or four years after I left the Clocktower.' He said, pausing to think for a second and then realizing I had no idea what that was.

'...Okay it was... eight? Eight years after my Grail War then.' He continued, and I mentally slotted the coming story into my timeline of Archer's life.

'Some dumb ass in the middle east - think of it like Vacuo - was taking advantage of a bunch of local fighting between the different sects of dumb asses in the region to get materials for his research.' Archer espoused, continuing our forward march into the bleak abyss ahead of us. I just nodded, not wanting to speak for fear that I would break the spell and Archer would shut down and become a mega douche again.

'Now at this point you have to understand - I didn't really have what you could call an information network. I pretty much just picked the shittiest place on the planet I could think of and went there. I had been all over the area putting down terrorists left and right so I was feeling pretty good about myself. So imagine my surprise when reports start coming in that villages were just disappearing. Not the buildings - those were all fine - but the _people_.' Archer continued, a faint frown gracing his face as he remembered it. It was weird hearing him talk about helping people like that was a thing he cared about. Intellectually I understood that he wasn't _always_ a prick. But _my_ Archer had basically been suggesting I murder or steal from people from pretty much the minute we met. Never maliciously just... out of 'necessity'.

'So me being the dumb ass I was, I packed my stuff and went to the location of the last disappearance. I didn't find anything obvious but I _did_ find evidence that someone had been using some pretty heavy duty magecraft in the area.' Archer explained and at this I felt I had to jump in.

'I thought you said magecraft is a big secret and people who mess that up get uh... dealt with.' I finished awkwardly.

'They do.' He said with a shrug.

'But wouldn't stealing whole villages of people be sort of... obvious?' I pointed out.

'Not really. No one cares if you use your magecraft to be a bastard Jaune. They care if people who aren't in the know can _prove_ there was something supernatural going on. As far as the powers that be were concerned, no survivors meant no witnesses, meant no infraction. Well, not as far as his methods went anyway. His research on the other hand...' He paused to scowl at something or someone that obviously wasn't here.

'That's... pretty terrible. Do you think... I mean my Mom and Dad were sort of shitty parents but I never thought of them as...' I trailed off, not really sure how to phrase what I was asking.

'Sociopathic Narcissists who can't be bothered to place value on human life?' Archer supplied almost cheerfully. I shot him a sour look at that and his smirk morphed into an apologetic frown.

'Look Jaune, I get that they're your parents but...' Archer paused and his eyes unfocused, like he was looking at something far away then continued; 'You can't really ever know what your parents did before they decided to take you in.'

I didn't bother commenting on the 'take you in' part. Poking at his history in places he wasn't explicitly trying to explain to me was another one of those things that was sure to set Archer to mega douche mode again.

'A-anyway.' He said with a cough. 'So I hunted the guy doing it all down. He was holed up in a cave system off the beaten path that the locals refused to go to because local lore said it was haunted. That was the first time I ever-' He stopped talking and his head whipped forward, his nose flaring like a hunting dog on a game trail.

'Sound up ahead.' Archer said instead of continuing his story. His entire stance reset, shifting back to the deceptively relaxed stance he always held when he was prepared to fight.

'Should we keep going?' I asked hesitantly. It wasn't that I wanted to stop but… running face first into danger was the type of thing I knew Archer would chew me out for later. Also I really wanted to hear the rest of this god damn story.

'Tch. No choice. Just get ready to give me the body.' He groused, waving for me to continue forward.

'My body. Not 'the' body' I corrected automatically, even though I obeyed his command easily, raising my shield and orienting my dust blades forward.

Archer didn't bother to respond to that, so I moved on, rounding the bend and continuing forward. In the distance, near where the tunnel looked like it became an actual platform for boarding the train I could see a light. Several of them in fact. Dozens of little red lights that shifted as if hung from a shaking cord, bouncing around at complete random. I could hear sounds too - a sort of shuffling like you'd expect from a busy train station with everyone trying to stay out of each others personal space. Only without any background noise to drown the subtle noises of movement out.

The closer I got to the lights, the more disconcerting it was - because they didn't illuminate much of anything so much as just give depth to the darkness of the tunnel. The sound of bodies shuffling and people groaning began to grow louder the closer I got to them, and it was only when I felt a dull wave of prana from what was probably the proximity ward that I realized what I was looking at.

Not lights. But eyes. Glowing red eyes belonging to dozens and dozens of people, each one of them caged and left to rot in this dank tunnel. The cages were stacked, one on top of the other, creating the impression of a fort built of them, and every single set of the eyes whipped towards me the second I got in range to make them out.

'Jaune - switch!' Archer yelled at me, but I was just to _dazed_ to follow the order.

'Jaune!' He tried again obviously frustrated by his inability to physically touch me for attention.

'Why? They're still alive, we can save them if we open the cages.' I asked slowly, not sure what the sudden urgency in Archer's voice was for. As far as I was concerned this was a lucky break. Wed managed to get to these people before Caster had finished with them. Heck maybe they'd even be able to tell us where to find him.

'Because those aren't _people_ ' Archer hissed at me, stepping around and infront of me protectively. The gesture was nice but he had to know that it was a useless one. It wasn't like he could actually do anything without using my body.

'Archer!' I yelped at him, shocked by the sudden racism. It had never occurred to me that Archer even _had_ an opinion on Faunus.

'Wha- No you idiot. These people are already Dead Jaune.' Archer shot back at me, and I got the distinct impression he was capitalizing the word 'Dead'. I hated when he did that, because it meant he was talking about more magical crap I had no frame of reference for.

'...Dead?' I asked hesitantly, allowing prana to flood my circuits and eyeing the surrounding cages warily. While I had been arguing with Archer over what to do the people in the cages had begun to stir themselves up into a kind of frenzy. Slowly at first, but already some of them were throwing themselves at the bars to their cages in haphazard attempts to get out. It hadn't seemed that weird to me at first because _I'd_ definitely be trying to get out. But that didn't explain why none of them had tried until they had seen me.

'Basically? Zombies.' Archer intoned gravely.

Oh. Oh okay. That was actually pretty easy to take in. I'd seen enough movies about _those_ not to be to bothered by it. Heck, zombies had to be pretty low on the totem pole compared to some of the weird shit I'd encountered since becoming a Magus.

'Fast or Slow?' I asked, feeling my confidence return to me.

'Fast. Jaune you need to let me handle this.' Archer commanded me. I looked at him confused. I mean yeah I was never going to be 'fight a servant' good or anything but there was no reason I couldn't handle normal mooks like this. As if sensing my confusion Archer rolled his shoulders, keeping his eyes on the nearest cages as their occupants began to... bend the six inch metal bars out of the way?

"Zombies aren't supposed to have super strength. Literally no movie I have ever seen included that." I murmured aloud much to Archer's annoyance.

'I said _like_ Zombies. They're faster and stronger than a normal human could ever hope to handle. If there were just one or two you could handle it since you have aura but this many will mob you before you can deal with them all.' Archer stated.

'I'm pretty sure I can still manage it.' I said nonplussed.

'If you get bit even _once_ you'll turn into one of them. Where I'm from we'd rather destroy the whole city rather than let these things run loose. They're like murder locusts. If you miss even one then they just come back worse than before. Now _switch_.' Archer said again.

I winced at his explanation. Then the implications hit me. If Archer was right then all these things needed to destroy Vale would be for a couple of them to get behind the walls and go unnoticed for a little while. They'd take the non-aura using populace of the city out before anyone even knew what was going on. The Hunters might fight them off at that point - but without all the farmers and other normal people that kept the city running, Vale would be as good as dead anyway. And as soon as that thought occurred to me I felt all my fear drain away from me. he

These things - and whoever made them - _couldn't_ be allowed to survive. And as much as I was proud of how far I had come from the weak kid I was even just a few months ago... I needed Archer if I was going to guarantee that. The ring of drawn steel rang through my soul, and Archer turned the corner and swept into me like greased lightning. Like a worker at the forger I began to slowly feed my Aura into my circuits, the curious action causing my reserves to balloon to ludicrous and Servant worthy proportions. My mouth moved without my direct command, and words spilled forth from us, practically in tandem with the shriek of tearing metal as the first few Dead managed to escape their prisons.

" 'Trace, On.' "

We said the words at once, Archer verbally, and me mentally, but the effect was profound. I had built Flamen Volcanalis with the expectation that Archer would probably going to possessing me while I held it. I also knew that Archer wasn't really a shield guy. Kanshou and Bakuya were his weapons of choice, and he needed both hands free to use them. So I had naturally built my shield with straps fort up my forearm, so that it wouldn't fall off of us if we had to switch rapidly.

What I hadn't really expected was that, even though Archer had my body - Flamen Volcanalis stayed active. And what's more, I still had control over it's blades. Kanshou and Bakuya flickered into existence in our hands, and the half dozen blades I had poured my heart and soul in the forging zipped forward, slamming into the monsters before us that seemed closest to escaping. The strikes didn't kill them immediately - a testament to the insane durability these things apparently had - but they definitely hurt. Archer lunged forward, seemingly unaware of my phantom hand on the swords around him, sweeping his blade cleanly through the necks of the two nearest Dead and shearing their heads from their bodies as easily as if he was cutting bread.

Our advanced continued forward like a tide. Inexorable. Absolute. All around us were the smashed bodies of monsters that had met my Gravity Blade. The burnt corpses of those that had encountered my Lightning and Flame blades. It wasn't a fight as much as it was a massacre. The battle took exactly as long as it took us to slowly walk from one end of the room the the other, Archer and I working in perfect unison. It was... something. It definitely didn't feel good - I was still more or less killing what looked like human beings to me. But it was... right. Like we weren't destroying as much as we were cleansing the room of a taint that had seeped into it so deep you could feel it without even looking.

And when we finally did stop, we just stood there.

'What the fuck is going on?' I asked plaintively once I had managed to move past my sudden and burning desire to execute whoever had done this to these people.

'I... don't know. How long can you keep this up?' Archer queried, gesturing to the hovering blades of energy surrounding us with one of his swords.

'A while I think. It's still using my Prana but, it was designed to be pretty efficient for me on a _normal_ day. When your in the drivers seat we have way more Prana than I do normally.' I answered honestly.

'Hm. Lets keep going like this then. If whoever's in here is experimenting with _that_ then it's only going to get worse the further we go.' Archer said dourly.

'That?' I asked, no sure what he was referencing.

'The Dead don't come from nowhere. Not in a place with no people like this. Someone in this place is messing around with Dead Apostle blood.' Archer explained, eyeing the tunnel past the platform we had stopped at.

'What's a Dead Apostle?' I asked with a resigned tone, getting kind of tired of all the new concepts being thrown at me today.

'Dangerous. And more importantly, something that really shouldn't exist here.' Archer responded flatly, before turning and setting us into a quick jog forward.

'Oh. Great. Thats... great.' I said.

Honestly, just once I want to go somewhere that magic hasn't screwed everything up.

Still, I maintained my vigilance. Whining about it wouldn't fix anything. I could only move forward. I hoped Qrow was having an easier time than this.

-ooo-

 **POV: Qrow**

When the kid said this place had some bad mojo he was _not_ kidding. These damn tunnels are full of Grimm and those Doll things the he was telling me about.

I spun to the left, keeping my circuits spun up to max so they could provide the necessary for my two most used spells. The first, which caused my Semblance to dial itself to eleven in the area immediately around me, caused one of the Dolls lunging at me to bump into one of it's compatriots, causing both to shift slightly and causing the one I was targeting to fall forward. The second - my poor mans attempt at a pair of Mystic Eyes - told me exactly what effect all that bad luck was going to have, and allowed me to thrust my weapon forward, shifting it into it's Scythe form and allowing the Doll to basically eviscerate itself on my blade.

There was a lot of stuff I hated about working for Oz - but this? This made it all worth it sometimes.

"You are surprisingly nimble for being such a dullard." The droll voice of the man I was trying to battle my way towards called out in what could have been genuine praise if it hadn't come attached to an insult.

"I aim to please." I ground out through gritted teeth.

This had all started a few minutes ago, when I had finally managed to find a branch of these stupid tunnels that actually led to somewhere with some working lights. I had come out into a huge central hub. Where all the other trains would likely stop for maintenance between runs. And the area was positively full of creepy shit. Every single wall of the place had lines of script on it, written with a ruddy brown substance that was probably dried blood. It was written with perfect accuracy. Couldn't have been more perfectly sized and aligned if they had been typed up on a scroll.

And the amount of blood you'd need to do it all was frankly staggering. Part of me hoped the lunatic in front of me had done it slowly with his own blood over years, but something told me that was just wishful thinking. People who had secret lairs didn't do _anything_ half way. I had no idea why but every bad guy I had ever chased down for using the Magecraft Salem taught seemed to be the type of person who was perfectly okay murdering babies if it got them what they wanted. You would think just one of them would have _some_ semblance of decency but that just didn't seem to be the case.

And standing in the middle of this monument to murderous insanity, was _this_ dick. He had to be a Magus of some kind - no way was anyone in this place not - but so far he hadn't made any move to actually fight me. The second he noticed me sneaking about (I was kind of hoping to just kill him while his back was turned), he had grumbled something about interrupting his great work, and waved a lazy hand at me.

Then a bunch of these doll things had started to come out of the wood work and he had just gone back to what he was doing like he didn't care that I was tearing apart his minions not thirty feet from him.

"Well you're certainly pleasing _me_. Little Cinder has to learn that her toys are _nothing_ in the face of a true hero - let alone a pale imitation like _you_." The man scoffed, raising a hand absentminded to tug at his necktie and furrowing his brow in thought.

"A true hero huh?" I grunted, sweeping Harbinger around me in its war scythe form to clear some space and get some breathing room.

"Indeed. I wouldn't expect you to understand. You've never experienced the majesty of a _true war_." The man said, his face going blank and his eyes turning misty for a second before he snapped out of it and darted a glance to the command seals resting on my hand.

"You're going to get overwhelmed soon you know." He pointed out, now pointedly _not_ looking at my hand now. And wasn't _that_ that weirdest damn thing. This guy wasn't nearly so subtle as he probably thought he was. Or as smart. It was pretty obvious he knew _something_ about this mark on my hand but the fact that he kept talking about heroes and trying to goad me into doing something rash told me that I absolutely _had_ to keep Amber out of this place.

And if I was going to that I was going to have to pull out all the stops. With an exertion of will I increased the amount of Prana flowing through me, bending it - and my Semblance - to my will. My eyes began to glow a hazy purple, and streamers of steam began to trail from me as I pushed each and everyone one of my circuits to the utmost limit of my ability - and then some. The sheer heat radiating off of me was probably enough to cause distortions in the air, and I took every last bit of that energy and I forced it to actualize my Semblance, my _Origin_ onto the world around me.

The results were both instantaneous and spectacular. The automatons the entire room over began to malfunction. Whatever circuitry or runework that was holding them together began to spontaneously fail, or overload. Rocks began to fall from the ceiling as some unseen force dictated that moment would be when the tectonic plates deep beneath the earth would shift, causing this exact location to shake. The falling stone slammed into any Doll still able to move, destroying them utterly. In that moment, for just the brief flash of time I was firing on all cylinders I was nigh unto a god. Everything that _could_ go wrong _did_. All around me the dull golden threads that connected everything in the phenomenon known as 'causality' began to snap and fray as reality warped and bent to accommodate my wishes.

The cocky bastard who had been trying to bait me mere moments ago was now staring at me with a mix of surprise and annoyance. He step slightly away from me just in time to avoid another falling wrong, and I clicked my tongue in irritation. I could keep this up for maybe five more minutes before I'd have to ease off. Any longer and I'd burn myself out, creating too long of a recovery time to be able to safely extract myself or fight on. Not that I was going to tell this guy that.

"You know, you and I aren't actually that different I don't think." The man said begrudgingly. His finger twitched, and the dull green glow of his own circuits activating beneath his clothes and reinforcing him flashed into being. I always hated that about Salem's protege's. They tended to get a much more complete education than those of us on the side of the angels did. Ozpin said it was because full knowledge of Magecraft tended to be a corrupting influence - and after seeing the kind of crap Salem's various apprentices had done over the years I couldn't entirely disagree.

But it still really sucked.

"You're right - you didn't think." I growled, leaping towards him with my blade outstretched. That would have probably been the end of this fight if I hadn't kept my other spells running. But since they were, I was treated to the lovely image of something very bad happening to me if I continued on my current trajectory. So instead of completing my lunge and trying to decapitate this prick I slammed Harbinger into the ground, using it to change directions mid air. No sooner had I done that then an inky black ball of _something_ flew through the air towards me.

I dared a glance towards it and blanched at the creepy black _stuff_ that had hit the wall behind me. It had already begun to ooze down the wall there but looking at it with my Mystic Eyes was like getting stabbed in the face with literally every evil I could think off.

It was Anger and Hatred and Pain and Death and -

I tore my eyes away from it, feeling blood beginning to stream down my face from my eyes where it had begun to pool. I didn't have to much time to think about what the hell _that_ was because I could already see dozens of new spots in my vision that were due to be filled with the stuff.

"What the fuck?!" I growled as I rolled forward under another barrage of the crap, turning to train my vision on the enemy Magus.

"You see? We both appear to work the same type of Magecraft. True, your curses are unrefined, but they are _remarkably_ well controlled." He hummed, clapping his hands together and causing dozens of orbs of the crud to hover into the air behind him. I forced myself to focus on the bad luck spots in my vision instead of the projectiles themselves lest I blow my eyes out. He clearly wasn't _making_ them, but if that was the case where were they...

'There.' I thought to myself, sight on a hole in the ground at the top of the platform the man was standing on. I hadn't immediately been able to see it until I jumped onto of the platform myself but now that I was here I could... I could...

 _Fearsufferingangerragepaindeathdeathdeathdeath-_

Ow. Ow Ow Ow.

"I officially hate you _."_ I complained.

"I assure you, the feeling is mutual." My enemy said to me pleasantly.

Dick.

 **-ooo-**

 **Im back! I ended up with a sort of writers block for a while and stopped writing for a bit. Then I got hilariously sick and ended up reading a shit ton of stuff on this site, which obviously inspired me and kicked my but into gear. Also I uh... had nothing better to do tonight. It's not like I wasn't writing at all but it was just hard to get the energy and focus up to finish a chapter. I've got about a half a chapter done for Deku 10, You Say Roll, _and_ For Someone's Glory. I basically have writing ADHD. **

**So, having taking the criticism from the previous few chapters seriously, is it the length of the fights thats irksome, or just the extended _run_ of fight. I also realize that Jaune's sisters are all OC's and noone really likes reading about a bunch of those - that's fair - but they serve a purpose in the overall plot that I can't just shove off onto characters that already exist.  
**

 **I can't promise I won't write any more long fight scenes - because thats kind of RWBY's claim to fame as a series - but I will try to cut things up with other stuff like this chapter with Archer and Jaune talking in the tunnel. You'd think like a hundred and fifty thousand words later I'd have a solid writing style for this but you'd be deaaaaaaad wrong.**

 **Anyway, let me know what you think and how I can improve in the reviews section. I love seeing you guys speculate or call out predictions for the future, especially when people are occasionally right. I like to think I'm not so predictable that every plot point is an easy call so... good on you.**

 **OH and as always.**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	28. Crazy Train

**POV: Jaune**

The tunnel we were in began to shake, great tremors vibrating the walls and causing hunks of concrete and stone tofallall about us. The momentary change from complete stillness to frenetic and violent movement would have caused me to freeze in panic had I any control over my bodyat that moment.

Since I didn't, Archer - who was presently the one in the drivers seat, pursed my lips in irritation then began sprinting forward. We zig zagged and whirled, the Married Blades of Kanshou and Bakuya whipping out to split any stray bits of debris that fell toward us. I watched in stunned awe as Archer worked, moving through the tunnel when the very landscape itself seemed to be assaulting us. There was no wasted movement, no unneccesary expidenture of energy. Just pure efficiency.

 _'Explosion?'_ I asked when the fracas finally stopped and we were able once more to travel at the even pace we had been going.

 _'Don't know. There was a spike in Prana usage back the way we came just before it started though.'_ Archer explained, eyes darting around to examine our surroundings. I had no idea how he could consider such a quick glance around to be an appropriate amount of diligence though. He was looking around so fast with my eyes that I could barely make out what he was looking at before he had moved on.

 _'Should we go back? We would have caught up to Qrow by now if he went this way...'_ I suggested, only slightly anxious about what the other man was getting up to. It was ironic that growing up I used to consider Huntsmen the top of the food chain as far as combat went. Now that I was a proper Magus, I couldn't help but look down on the capabilities of a 'mere' Huntsmen.

Then again, Qrow was technically a Magus himself, and I would hate to be around at the exact moment that Amber made her entrance...

 _'We can't. Whoever is making the Dead is playing with something they can't possibly understand. They need to be put down.'_ Archer replied instantly, a hint of steelin his tone that brooked no argument. I flinched slightly at the wording of the declaration. I wasn't so squeamish or soft hearted that I thought I would never have cause to kill another person, but the cold predetermination to kill someone was far different than the split second judgement to do so in the heat of battle. There was a level of detachment to it that I was distinctly uncomfortable with.

Archer, seeming to sense my discomfort, rolled our shoulders, our face set into a grim mask before we began to accelerate forward. I felt the phantom instinct to grit my teeth and squint against the wind, but couldn't and the sensation quickly became distracting enough that I felt the need find something else to do in order to avoid it.

So naturally, I decided to bother Archer some more.

 _'So... from context I guess the Dead were what you found? In that mission you were talking about?'_ I asked.

 _'Yes and no. Like I said, those things are basically corpses that can move. They aren't the_ _intended_ _result of_ anyone _messing around with Dead Apostle blood. They're just the most_ likely _one.'_ Archer supplied.

 _'If it's so dangerous why bother? I mean if it never works right and everyone tries to kill you over it, whats the point?'_ I queried. The whole thing just made no sense to me. Despite the whole walking with death thing, Archer made it seem like most Magi were borderline sociopaths. I could understand the complete lack of morality involved, but not touching this kind of research just seemed like basic self preservation. I was going to say something else to that effect when Archer spoke up once more.

 _'Try to understand Jaune. The goal of any given Magus is to reach the root. The heart of all creation and the archive of all knowledge past, present, or future. It's the work of so many generations that even the most talented Magus can be sure he won't see it in his lifetime.'_ Archer said darkly, then snorted and continued.

 _'Is it any wonder that when presented with a chance at immortality, they throw everything else to the way side?'_ He finished.

I... had never thought about it like that. It felt like the same kind of justification a person might apply to the grail war. If you ended up with ultimate power, then did it really matter how you got there? A selfish person could justify pretty much any risk that way.

Especially when you weren't the person paying the cost of failure.

We continued down the tunnel in relative silence after that, with every step we took fanning the ever present flame of hatred I carried for the Master of Caster. Twice now I had witnessed the unspeakable from her. Twice now I had been forced to accept that not everyone got a happy ending. I knew the world wouldn't be any less shitty without her in it - but it definitely couldn't make it worse.

Finally, when my simmering rage was enough to set my forged Dust Blades to quivering, we emerged from the tunnel into an area that looked like it was dedicated to loading luggage onto the trains. We had passed several such platforms, each one as desolate as the last, but this one was different for several reasons. For one the lights were on. For another, there was an actual train present, stretching further away into the tunnels ahead. Dolls marched back and forth through the area, dragging huge cargo containers about using their preternatural strength. I could here dull banging emanating from the containers, like there was something inside trying to get out.

Crouching in the shadows just at the edge of the lit area, I could feel Archers eyes narrow as he came to the same conclusion I had.

 _'Are there more of those things in the containers? Why?'_ I asked in confusion.

 _'They're loading them onto the train.'_ Archer pointed out.

 _'Maybe since we tripped their alarms they're trying to run away?'_ I asked hopefully, thinking it would be nice to be the person the monsters feared instead of the one victimized by them.

 _'Doesn't make any sense. The Caster class specializes in creating and holding a defensive position. This one seems no different.'_ Archer said, jerking his head left and right as we spoke to take in as many details as possible before we moved forward.

 _'Well there's not much point in the train if they aren't leaving.'_ I said with the mental equivalent of a shrug. Archer froze, his head turning fractionally as if he was trying to regard me but couldn't due to our unique situation.

 _'Jaune. Where does this train go again?'_ He asked slowly.

 _'I'm pretty sure it was just to shuttle people between here and Vale. It's not like we could build a railway all the way to Vacuo or Atlas.'_ I answered, then felt my spirit grow cold as realization dawned on me. Archer had already said that the Dead could decimate a civilian populace, and I had immediately considered the ramifications if they were to reach Vale. But even with that, I hadn't actually thought that was their intended purpose! Even the most vicious of people had to grasp that if Vale fell to the Grimm then they too would be just as at risk as the rest of us.

Unless... unless this was all just to draw out the other competitors in the grail war. I couldn't see any of the Masters I had met so far just sitting back and letting Vale get torched. And if everyone was busy defending the city then how easy would it be for a Doll to sneak up on them? Heck, without the city most of us would have no where safe to rest. I certainly didn't have as many secret bases as Caster apparently did. Could I defend myself against him without having slept for days? Could anyone?

And once you got the Grail, did any of that death and destruction really matter?

 _'That's what I was afraid of.'_ Archer grumbled, his grip tightening on his swords.

 _'Archer. You know I don't tend to give you orders right? I mean, real orders.'_ I said, knowing how hollow my voice must sound in Archer's head.

 _'...Yes.'_ The Servant of the Bow said warily.

 _'Well, just this once, by my order -'_ I started, a new fierceness blazing to life within me as I contemplated the death and destruction of everyone and everything I had ever known.

 _'Kill 'em all!'_ I barked, and a vicious smile spread across our face.

"As you command Master." Archer declared aloud, stepping from the shadows and brandishing Kanshou and Bakuya before him. Immediately all activity in the area stopped, but only for the brief moment it must have taken Caster to command his minions to attack. I had a brief flashback to the endless tide of Dolls that had once nearly killed Cardin and I beneath the forever falls. The situation then had been hopeless. I had survived via pure luck and nothing more.

But today was different. Today, I had my Archer.

We plunged forward into the oncoming rush of combatants. Almost instinctively I pinwheeled my Dustblades around us at a range of about a meter, leaving a wide enough space for Archer to fight in while cutting down on the number of enemies that could rush us at once.

Not having to control the area around him, Archer was free to call upon his own stable of floating weaponry, wave after wave of swords radiating out from us and efficiently ending minion after minion.

We leapt about the room like an angry ghost, and everywhere we landed groups of enemies died. Archer didn't even seem like he was breaking a sweat. Lesser enemies such as these would never be a match for a true Heroic Spirit. I was suddenly very much aware of Archer's injunction not towaste his talents on my schoolmates. I had ways know intellectually that it would be overkill, but to see it first hand again... I didn't think it would ever not surprise me.

Turning my attention back to the fighting,I found that the crowd of enemies had thinned significantly, with fewer and fewer reinforcements streaming in from the other entrances. Making a snap decision I changed focus, hurling my blades at the containers holding the Dead. One went up in flames almost instantly, the metal becoming white hot. Another crumpled in on itself as though a giant squishing a soda can. Still yet another began to discharge arcs of electricity into its surroundings, laying low yet more of the Dolls around it.

I stoically ignored the blood seeping from the crushed container, or the whining pop of flesh and blood boiling coming from the electrified or burning ones. This... all of this... had to be done. These weren't people any more. I had to keep telling myself that. They weren't people. Just... victims of a monster that were still moving around.

We finished ripping apart the remaining fighters in the room only to be startled by the sound of the train starting up. The wheels began to churn and the gargantuan metal thing started to shift away from us and further up the tunnel.

Archer and I spared no words working out what to do next. Our two minds working together knew without debate what we had to be done. We plunged forward, shouldering the door off the hinges of the rearmost car on the train and sending it flying inward.

Inside, yet more Dolls stood at the ready, but by this point anything less than an Army of the things would be a a non issue. Still, Archer frowned at the enemies arrayed before us.

"Why hasn't Caster shown up yet?" He asked, idly thrust a hand out to skewer a Doll that had been just out of our field of view that had been trying to sneak up on us.

 **"I am otherwise occupied. You seem to have recovered nicely."** A smooth voice said, emanating from the speakers on the roof of the car. In the background, I could here a feral screaming that chilled the blood in my veins while he spoke.

"You know what they say. What doesn't kill you and all that." Archer said dryly. Then his gaze sharpened, growing cold and calculated.

"Now, I wonder what you could be doing that you'd rather leave me to rampage about than stop me?" He mused. Caster didn't answer, instead allowing his Dolls to whip forward to attack us again. We took them apart in short order, and proceeded further into the train.

-ooo-

 **POV: Qrow**

The problem with having a semblance based on probability, is that by definition you can never be too sure what the consequencesof using it are going to be. My semblance, very specifically, produces bad luck. At rest, that is, when I'm not supplementing with my Magecraft, this manifests in little things. People trip around me. They lose stuff. They forget to do things. But when I crank up the power as it were, that's when things get weird.

Because even though I actively hate my semblance. Even though I have spent the better part of my life getting my shit together and learning to stop it from randomly tripping my friends mid combat or leaving the door unlocked when my niece is showering - I still can't fully grasp what the hell it's doing sometimes.

Case and point.

"Did you just cause an entire earthquake in order to drop six pieces of concrete on me?" My enemy asked incredulously.

"Nope." I quipped, breathing heavily with exertion. It wasn't... _technically_ a lie. I had actually dropped significantly more than six pieces of rubble - they just hadn't all hit him. Plenty of the mooks in the room with us had been handily dealt with that way. I also hadn't intentionally caused an earthquake. That's the trouble with my semblance. When it's running at full power like this the best my Mystic Eyes can do is show me the end result of tugging on a particular strand of fate. How the hell was I supposed to know that rocks falling everywhere was going to have a necessary component that included bending nature to my will? What's worse, I couldn't just flex my power and cause this prick to drop dead. Not only do most Magi have a natural resistance to outside tampering, but I can't make things happen if the possibility for them to happen doesn't already exist.

"You are an entirely too strange man Qrow Branwen. You spend all your time flying about for that old man, and yet yourself come from a clan of bandits. _Criminals_." He sneered, waving his hand lightly and causing another deluge of black goo to slam into the ground where I had just been standing. This was why I was out of breath. Not because using my semblance was all that terrifyingly costly, but because I was constantly moving around to avoid whatever that crap was.

It was maddening really. For most of my life I had always considered my particular brand of Magecraft to be basically unbeatable. I mean, have a heart condition? Bam, I win. Bad terrain? Bam, you've tripped and broken your neck. I win. Trying to murder me? Tough luck, I'm basically precognitive when it comes to misfortune.

But here I was, completely unable to land even a single blow on this chuckle fuck, and it was all because I couldn't bring myself to look at most of the god damn room anymore. Every wave of that black crap coated the floor and the walls, and looking at it directly with my Mystic Eyes on was liable to send me into a coma. I was essentially memorizing where the crap landed, and using my ability to predict where it was going to dodge without having to see the actual attacks aimed at me. And I was running out of god damn room.

"Hey I haven't been back to the tribe in ages. I'm not well loved over there." I shot back with a dry chuckle, mostly in an attempt to cover up how uneasy it made me that random mook A here knew so many of my personal details. It wasn't like Salem was particularly motherly with her disciples. I got the distinct impression she trained them and unleashed them on the world out of pure spite more so than with the intent that they follow a master plan of some kind.

"Come now Qrow, surely you must see the futility of all this. So long as I have access to my masters gift you have no recourse!" The dick crooned, pausing in his barrage of attacks to allow some of that blackened gunk to slither across his hand like a snake. It was highly disturbing to see him so willing to touch the stuff, and I had to make a point of looking slightly to the left of his actual hand so he didn't notice how unwilling I was to look at it. Even more worrisome, he had called this crud a gift from his Master, which meant it was some kind of Mystic Code straight from Salem herself.

And that meant I might need some freaking help.

"Alright, so, say I accept that I'm screwed here. What's the point of trying to convince me? Your gonna kill me anyway." I pointed out, easing my stance slightly and shoving the hand bearing my command seals into my pocket where it could remain unseen.

 _'Amber.'_ I said, firing the word across the mental link I now had with the - admittedly cute - psycho.

 _'Yes~ Dar~ ling~!'_ She all but squealed back at me. It was sickening how pleased she sounded given my single word call to her. I wonder if this was what Taiyang was expecting when he shacked up with Raven. Poor dumb bastard. Raven was my sister, but she was also the most slovenly grouch I knew. She was more likely to take you for a ride and demand you make her a sandwich afterwards than to fawn over you. And that's assuming she was even there when you woke up - which obviously given that blonde bastards remarriage, turned out to be a bad assumption to make.

 _'I need-'_ I thought but paused when the dickhead started talking at me again, like basically every evil Magus does when they think they've got you dead to rights. Blah blah my mysteries, blah blah.

"As long as we are negotiating, my name is Arthur. Arthur Watts." He said then stared at me expectantly as though I was supposed to know or give a shit about who he was. I just lifted an eyebrow at him in response. Bad guys hate the one eyebrow lift. Makes them feel like you know something they don't.

"...And you appear to have something I dearly want. A ticket to a very special event if you will." He said with an annoyed expression that quickly shifted to an amused chuckle as he spoke.

"Sorry, but I don't have any idea what you're talking about. Haven't been to a concert in years." I said smirking at him. The smirk only went skin deep though. Inwardly I was dreading this. Of course Salem's attack dogs would know about this... Grail War... thing... No wonder all I could see when I looked at these damn seals was death and destruction. If Salem got personally involved everyone was screwed.

 _'There's a guy here trying to - no he's **going** to kill me.'_ I rushed out to Amber, feeling my hand heat up in my pocket.

 _'Where!? Why!? No, it doesn't matter - I'll kill them!'_ Amber screeched indignantly.

 _'Can't talk, gonna summon you, don't touch the black stuff.'_ I said quickly.

"Come now there's no need to-" Arthur said, shutting his mouth and immediately beginning to fling globs of that shit at me when the light of my command seals began to burn to brightly to be hidden by my pocket.

"Amber!" I yelled, dodging swiftly to the side and waving my hand outward. It hurt. A lot. Like someone had just set my whole hand on fire. But between one blink and the next Amber was there, and I knew that what I had just felt was nothing on what this guy was going to suffer shortly.

With a single deft wave of her hand, the paper fan she was always carrying snapped open, and literally every part of the room that she and I didn't exist in ignited. I could barely even feel the difference in temperature, like the blaze was so perfectly contained and controlled that it never even considered trying to burn me. The light of the flames danced around Amber casting shadows on her well defined features and feral snarl - somehow managing to amplify her beauty instead of diminish it. It was simultaneously terrifying and super hot.

...Ah. A pun. Note to self, prank Yang.

"How dare you? How dare you!?" Amber screamed into the flames, flicking her hand outward once more to dismiss the blaze even as she stepped to the left, avoiding an errant blast of Arthur's Magecraft as if it wasn't even there. The room was charred completely black save for a perfect circle around me. Bits of the walls were still glowing like molten slag from a smithy, and much of the platform Arthur had been standing on had cracked and split, allowing his Mystic Code to ooze downwards, spreading even further across the area. The man himself, was completely covered in the stuff, smiling a sickeningly sweet smile at Amber as it sloughed off his face. Only a single one of his eyes was immediately visible, but there was an eagerness there, a madness that hadn't been present until just now.

"Ahahah, you came! You actually _came_! And you're strong! Stronger than any Servant I've ever seen before!" The lunatic chortled, his laugh flipping from the elegant guffaw he had affected prior to this into a full blown evil cackle.

"Come! Together we can win-" He started, but was cut off when a fireball that had materialized out of nowhere slammed into him, incinerating the hand he had lifted instinctively in response and much of the attached arm before the black goo of his Mystic Code covered him again, defending against the blaze.

"No." Was Amber's one word response. Her eyes flicked from Arthur to me, and whatever she saw there clearly did not improve her mood, because her pupils became golden slits, expanding to horrifying and comical proportions until they seemed almost too large for her own face.

"You will be-!" Another fireball. And then another. And another. Soon there wasn't so much a barrage of fireballs traveling towards the man as much as a contiguous stream of liquid magma. The ooze surrounding the room began to withdraw backwards towards him, pushing upward in an effort to create more and more cover between himself and the punishing attacks that Amber was laying into him.

"I will end you. And then I will claim my husband as prize. Right here. On your corpse." She declared chillingly. I tried super hard not to be turned on by that - because it was really messed up - but I did have to admit the crazy girl was growing on me and -

Nope. Bad Qrow.

Taking a moment to turn my eyes away from Arthur - who I was pretty sure was dead or dying despite Amber's continued attempts to vaporize the concrete where he was standing - I allowed my gaze to flicker across the room once more. I had been so focused on not looking at Arthur's code that I had basically blotted out everything I didn't need to fight him. And now that I wasn't anymore I was noticing something very disturbing about the bloodied script lining the walls.

Namely, the fact that it was glowing.

A new sense of urgency filled me, and I grunted when I released my Magecraft. I felt a bone deep weariness seep into me. Magic - and yes I know it's not magic thank you very much Oz - was bullshit that way. Better than any drug and ten times as useful. I couldn't count the number of times I'd ignored deadly wounds because the heat of my prana running through my veins dulled the pain of them.

Still, I managed to get myself moving at a decent pace towards Amber just as the stream of heat she was unleashing on Arthur began to sputter and then stop.

"Amber we gotta go." I said, waving towards the tunnel opposite the one I had entered through.

"Hush dear." She commanded with a tone of voice I'd heard a lot from housewives about to kick their husbands out of bed. Which was absurd because I was actively trying not to sleep with her. I opened my mouth to say as much but then Amber turned her head to regard me and I felt a shock of cold run down my spine. It wasn't as though her gaze was all that threatening - though she did have the whole lizard eyes thing going on. No, what was disconcerting was the sheer weight of the affection I could see in those eyes. Like I was the whole world to her and nothing could or would ever change that. Something told me that the small part of Amber that still held on to some rationality past what Oz had done to her was somewhere in there forcing her to look for little conflicts like this to justify herself.

Justify herself doing what, I didn't know but...I decided to keep my mouth shut either way.

Amber let loose an amused snort at my expression before turning away from me, gliding along the torched and blackened ground towards Arthur's corpse. The poor bastard had been cooked so fast that his body didn't even fall all the way down. The shriveled corpse just sat there in a kneeling position as if in supplication to a higher power. It was only when Amber and I stopped in front of it that I noticed he was still breathing. Weakly - so much so that I could be forgiven for mistaken it for the dull rattle of a leaf on the wind - but still, breathing.

"Geeze what does it take to kill this guy." I grumbled lifting my weapon to lop his head off.

"I..." came the skittering sound of words as they attempted to force themselves past Arthur's lips. Flesh and dead matter flaked away from his head as he forced his jaw to move, futilely trying to drag even the slightest sound from his throat. Instead, he tilted his head back and coughed directly into Amber's face. Then he shuddered, and fell still.

Amber seemed somewhere between apoplectic and genocidal at the audacity of the man, and a sudden spike of heat from her was the only warning I had before the black flecks of spittle that had landed on her face burned away to nothingness.

"Alright. One down." I said, for once happy that Amber was around.

"Is there another?" Amber asked, her voice growing cold.

"There were two of them when I was scouting it out with Jaune." I admitted, rolling my shoulders to work the kinks out.

"Then they will have to wait. You are tired." Amber chided, her eyes returning to a norm human shape and her cheek puffing outward like an angry child.

"I've had worse. Besides, the kids still up there, can't leave him alone for too long. Did he meet you at the wall?" I asked, checking the walls of the room and noting with some satisfaction that the script that was written there had stopped glowing.

"No. However Darling~" Amber crooned, her voice growing heated and amorous. I tried to step quickly out of her reach but as I'd come to expect by now she followed me in lockstep, latching on to my arm and hugging it too herself like it was her only lifeline.

"I could make this so much easier. If we retreat to... rest... I can simply destroy all of the tunnels at once. You've already said the boy isn't here anymore..." she continued growing redder and redder by the second.

I didn't like the way she said 'rest' but I had to admit that going nuclear on this whole place appealed to me more now than it did before I realized how directly involved Salem was in all of this.

"We'd have to find Jaune first..." I cautioned and Amber tightened her hold on me even further than I thought was possible without damaging my aura.

"Yes but after. I will require a Prana Transfer if I am to succeed in your mission after all." She continued to husk at me. I've said it before, but I'm not a very good Magus. I basically knew none of the theory involved. Which was why when Amber said 'Prana Transfer', alarm bells started ringing in my head that I couldn't quite figure out.

"Wouldn't Jaune know how to-" I tried, attempting and failing to lean away from the amorous girl next to me. I was doing my utmost not to notice her svelte figure pressing into me, or the way her upturned eyes were filled with need.

"No!" Amber screeched in horror before mastering herself.

"Ah, that is. It is something that should only be done between Master and Servant. Ma~ster~." She cooed.

"...alright but-" I started but never got the chance to continue because the second I had offered a tentative agreement Amber had whipped around and burned a person sized hole through the ceiling and straight up to the surface like it was nothing. I cringed as thelingering heat from the melted concrete sweapt over the room, and then nearly blacked out when Amber tugged on me, hurling us both up and out of the exit she had made. Once more I was forced to accept the fact that this woman was drastically faster and stronger than a normal Huntsman. So much so that she was probably holding herself back just to be around me.

We reached the surface and and Amber was breathing so hard and fast I'd have thought she had just run a marathon. I worried for a second that all that fire had over taxed her until I saw the manic gleam in her eyes and the too wide smile on her face.

"HesmineandImneverlettinghimgofortherestofhislife!" She murmured to herself so rapidly I couldn't actually discern what she had said.

In an effort to take my mind off of things I had no control over I looked back into the hole we had just made, into the inky blackness of the tunnel. For asecond I thought I saw something moving in the shadows, but when I looked again there was nothing.

And then Amber started moving again and I actually did black out.

-ooo-

 **POV: Jaune**

Every car we passed through on the train contained more and more dolls. We took them as well andfast as all the others but all the while there was a looming feeling of dread to the proceedings. It was as though Casters refusal to show up and defend against us meant we were playing directly into his hands.

I knew from Archer's earlier conversation with him that we were being deliberately distracted away from whatever it was he was doing, but I didn't know what else we could do. Every Doll was an abomination, a death left unavenged. Not to mention the cars that were basically just containers for all the Dead. Wasn't Caster a guy in a big Atlesian Paladin style mechsuit? Why the heck couldn't he just pick a fight with us normally? He was just so nebulously evil I had to wonder what kind of horrible person his Master was.

 _'Jaune, focus.'_ Archer chided me amidst the almost dull work of tearing apart all rhe minions on this damn train.

 _'Why? It's not like this is hard for you.'_ I pointed out to him. Honestly I kind of felt like it was a better use of my time to think about Casters plans and how to foil them than to kill a few more mooks faster.

 _'Look outside the train'_ he ordered, turning our head so I could actually do what he'd asked. Outside the train there was only one thing.

Grimm.

Endless, surging waves of the black skinned creatures, running alongside the train, crawling along the walls, hanging off the vehicle, or just plain appearing from tunnels that seemed to magically appear from nowhere. It was like looking at a swarm of maggots, the only discernible part of any individual Grimms body being the gleaming white mask they all wore.

What the hell? _What the hell?_

 _'What the hell!?'_ I finally managed to ask.

 _'Where did you think all the Grimm we followed here went?'_ Archer pointed out in annoyance. He... had a point. I guess I just couldn't figure out HOW this was happening. The Grimm were fundamentally mindless. They acted like animals, but they didn't breed or eat. They existed solely to torment and kill human beings. It was an enmity no one had ever been able to figure out, and that the Grimm seemingly applied equally across the entirety of humanity. And yet here they were, completely ignoring the train. It was almost like they were following... it...

 _'Oh come on!'_ I screeched, as we continued to fight our way through the cars, eventually stopping as we made it to the conductors compartment.

 _'What?'_ Archer snapped. He clearly didn't understand the depth of the problem. He thought he did. But he really didn't.

 _'The Grimm! Are helping! Our enemies!'_ I shouted, doing my utmost to get across the severity of this bizarre difference in the monsters behaviour.

 _'I already knew that. I've been expecting these things to show up since we got here.'_ Archer retorted with a sour tone.

 _'If something can go wrong...'_ I began, bitterly remembering Archers default operating procedure.

 _'It will.'_ He finished smugly. Soooo damn smugly. But he still wasn't getting my _point_.

 _'Archer, the Grimm control nearly the entire surface area of the world. They're soulless killing machines explicitly specialized in killing human beings. If someone can control them -'_ I expanded but was cut off.

 _'Wait. Say that last part again.'_ He barked suddenly.

 _'If someone can control -'_ I said, attempting to finish my explanation.

 _'No you idiot. Before that. The exact wording.'_ Archer sighed. He eyed the compartment ahead of us, and then frowned, walking to the back of the car we were in.

 _'The Grimm are killing machines specialized in killing humans?'_ I offered in puzzlement, even as Kanshou and Bakuya vanished from our hands, and were replaced with a nameless black bow that I somehow automatically knew Archer had crafted himself.

 _'That's what I thought you said. Dammit. Just once I'd like to fight a normal war.'_ Archer declared grimly, before continuing.

 **"I am the bone of my sword."** He intoned, before his prana usage spiked and a spiral shaped sword appeared in his open hand. I would have probably been more confused if I hadn't seen the Archer in my dreams use this so frequently. More so than that I was confused by _why_ he was using it.

Caladbolg II, The Fake Spiral Sword was the product of Archer's eternal quest for more power. Power he needed in life to fight on par with superhuman monsters that almost always outclassed him. Power he needed to even begin to bring to justice some of the enemies he would go on to face. On it's own, Caladbolg was designed to destroy vast swathes of land, it's usage a literal landscape changing event. Under Archers ministrations, the blade and handle lengthened, turned the Phantasm into an arrow capable of unleashing untold destructing onto whatever it landed on. Or near. Or... anyone close enough to see it. It was that kind of weapon.

So why were we aiming it at a door a few meters away from us?!

 _'Archer! What's going on! Talk to me buddy!'_ I screeched, doing my best to reel backward but not moving an inch since I - again - had no actual control of my body.

 _'He's on the other side of that door. Waiting for us to come through. I'm not exactly inclined to play along anymore.'_ Archer growled. He failed though, to hide the obvious pleasure this scenario brought him. The image of an unruly child flipping the table when he was losing a game came to mind and I felt a shiver run through my spirit. This sensation, this scenario. This was the reason Archer had ascended to become a Heroic Spirit. Not just because of his endless deeds and eternal struggle for justice - but because of his consistent ability to defeat enemies he had no business facing. The legacy of a youth forged by the demons of his own Grail War.

That didn't mean I wanted to be three feet from a nuclear detonation any more than I had before that epiphany though.

 _'Archer, I don't think that's-'_ I tried desperately to dissuade him, but like the unruly child I had compared him to, he ignored me completely. He placed his arrow on the bowstring and took aim.

"Caladbolg!" He called out, pulling back on the drawstring amd releasing, firing the projectile forward at ludicrous speeds. Caster HAD to have felt the Prana buildup just outside the door. There was no way he was going to just take it on the chin. Casters were crafty wizard types after all. They didn't just have 'fair fights'.

Archer and I watched with bated breath as the arrow crumpled the door and then slammed into the hulking metal hand just behind it. I had no idea how Casters bulk fit inside the train car, but it didn't really matter now. Rather than exploding on impact, Caladbolg II continued forward, pushing Caster backwards and ripping him out through the front of the train as if the walls were made of tissue paper. We watched as the giant metal man vanished into the darkness of the tunnel, leaving only the golden glow of Caladbolgs trail and the cylcopean red eye of Caster visible in the distance.

 _'Yes! Take that you rusty pile of crap!'_ I cheered seeing Caster so inconvenienced. And then I noticed Archer frowning.

 _'It was supposed to explode.'_ He said by way of explanation. Instantly I turned my attention back to the glow of the Noble Phantasm as it drilled into our enemy, only to find that brilliant golden light guttering and blinking out. I stared in stark disbelief as the train approached closer to the Iron Titan - and only when I got a full view of his arm did I fully grasp what had happened.

Because on the arm Caster had stopped our attack with, was a man. He was impaled on spikes that seemed to have been specially welded to the armor to hold him, and lacked hands and legs, merely being an amputated torso and head. His red hair fluttered in the gust caused by the Casters movements, and his eyes were sunken and milky white. He was without a doubt, one of the Dead, writhing and screeching in protest of his restraints. But more importantly than that was the fact that I recognized him.

And I knew his semblance.

"Thank you, for your patronage." Voiced Caster over the trains speaker system, before turning away from us, and towards the literal mountain of stone separating this train line from Vale. He raised his hand and the horrendous grinding mace that was his primary weapon appeared within it, each of its rotating rings spinning so fast that sparks began to fly above him.

My mind flashed to Adam Taurus, whose semblance allowed him to store the energy from his enemies strikes. Adam Taurus, who had been the first enemy Archer and I had fought and killed together, his corpse never recovered from the crater Hrunting had made. I shuddered at the kind of Mystic Code - if it could even be called that - that a competent Magus could make with those materials. And I remembered a single factoid about Caladbolg. It was the type of weapon known to change the very landscape around it.

 _'Archer!'_ I yelled, already sending my Dustblades whipping forward to harry him.

 _'I know!'_ He snapped back, our hands becoming a blur as we launched nameless lesser phantasms at Casters back at a speed comparable to a machine gun.

They landed on the cyclopean titan. Every single blow. But his hide was too thick, and whatever purloined ability he had stolen from Adam was too far strengthened by his ministrations. Where my Dustblades sank into him his armor bent and warped, and the ground cratered under a drastically increased weight. Dozens of nameless blades detonated against him, but the durability of a servant was not to be underestimated.

We had only a handful of seconds to stop the blow that was to come, and we failed. Casters mace fell forward, and all the pent up energy within him was suddenly given release. The mountain before us didn't so much explode as disintegrate outward, revealing the orange color of the setting sun - and the shadowed outline of buildings as the better part of an entire mountain rained down on them like shrapnel from a grenade.

Then the train plowed forward slamming into Caster and skipping as it bounced off smooth concrete that was never again meant to see the arrival of another train from Mountain Glenn.

Our teeth grit as our minds aligned, and we pushed off, using the momentum of the crashing train to slam a brutal kick in to Casters chest plate that launched us both free from the the derailment.

 **"My apologies. This was not the future I sought."** Caster declared wearily, even as he brought his other hand up to back hand us off of him. Archer flipped away, re summoning Kanchou and Bakuya to his hands with casual ease. He used the split second of movement to survey our surroundings, and they were not pretty. In a word it was complete bedlam. We had slain as many of the Dead and Dolls as we could, but with the Grimm pouring from the hole in Vales defenses like a tide of tooth and claw, there might be some that slipped through. And it would only take a single one for Vale to... for my home to...

 _'Archer we have to contain them!'_ I demanded of my trusty Servant, knowing full well the kind of toolbox he had to work with. We sprinted forward, dragging a white blade across Casters body that set the corpse on his arm to screaming again. Then we were forced to duck under another hammer blow from his mace that would have probably killed my shitty human body instantly.

 _'I don't have anything to contain this number of enemies! I could maybe kill most of them, but everything in the city in the same direction would go with it!'_ Archer bit out flinging a black blade towards Caster and then materializing a new one in his hand then using both blades to narrowly deflect another strike from the oversized metal man.

I snarled and, withdrawing my Dustblades from Caster where they barely seemed to be hurting him and set them to firing at the corpse - I refused to think of it as a mystic code, for that would be an insult to the type of Magus I hoped to be - on Casters arm. Unfortunately Servants, regardless of their size, werefast, and Caster was able to whirl around absorbing blows from my Magecraft on his armor, safe in the knowledge that purely physical blows were blunted against him.

 _'Dammit Archer there has to be something!'_ I begged, watching the Grimm fill the area around us and begin to angle themselves to chase people further into the city. Already I could see casualties, where people nearby who had just been minding their own business had been dragged down and torn apart by the monsters. A crow cawed ominously overhead, the little feathered creature landing on a streetlight above us like the harbinger of the end for Vales people.

 _'There is but, the amount of prana I would need to hold this many- '_ Archer finally offered hesitantly, as though he wasn't quite sure what would come of his statement.

 _'I don't care! We have enough!'_ I said. And I knew it to be true because it had to be true. I didn't think I could live with myself if it wasn't.

Archer, pursed our lips, leaping away from Caster and materializing his bow.

 **"I am the bone of my sword."** He declared, and our Prana reserves began to drop precipitously. I didn't care. The interaction between Prana and Aura - at least my Aura was well documented. We could raze a country with the power at our finger tips.

 **"Steel is my body, and fire is my blood."** Once more our Prana dropped, and I found the strain of manipulating my Aura into Prana enough that one of my Dustblades vanished, a casualty of the effort I was putting in to supporting Archer. Caster, noticing this, and the growing force gathering about Archer, went on the offensive. He charged us like an angry bull, creating meter long rents in the ground wherever his mace landed.

 **"I have created over a thousand blades."** We countered, sliding around the blows like we had eyes in the back of our head. I wanted to ask Archer how he did that but we had more pressing problems. The strain of moving this much aura was causing my body to heat up, a dull searing pain spreading throughout my circuits that I hadn't considered since my earliest days learning to use them.

 **"Unknown to death, Nor known to life."** We were delaying him. Caster figured it out quickly enough that mid swing he suddenly stopped, using shrapnel from his blows ground as a screen to facilitate his retreat.

 **"You too have within you the seeds of the future. Come then - let our ideals clash! In the Dimension of Steam! To the Gorgeous World of Ashes!"** He bellowed, his voice amplified by the machinery of his armor. Steam began to billow outward from him but I stopped being able to even pay that much attention when Archer continued his incantation.

 **"Have withstood pain to create many weapons!"** Archer roared in contest, his bow vanishing and Kanshou and Bakuya reappearing in his hands just in time to block a strike from Caster who had flown at us on a jet of steam with such speed and ferocity that it made his previous attempts to harm us seems as half-assed by comparison. Despite blocking the attack, the force behind it was enough to press our arms back into us, forcing us to take the rest of the blow head on and launching us violently into the Grimm that were milling about, sniffing the air in hesitation as if they knew that something was coming.

 **"Yet these hands will never hold anything."** Archer continued somberly, a direct contrast to the pride and fervor present in his last line. My Aura and Prana were dangerously close to empty, and I wasn't even sure if we were done yet. But this had to be enough. It had to. As of responding to my very will, the burning of my circuits spread throughout my body. The pain intensified such that if my mouth was under my own control I would have been screaming incoherently into the sky. I could barely tell what was happening around us anymore so intent was I on my own inner workings. If normal Magecraft had at first felt like jamming a hot iron down my spine, this was aking to consuming a live grenade. There was no way to even be sure I was going to survive the effort, and I had no idea if it was distracting Archer at all. But I held on, my entire existing narrowing down to the singular task of processing enough Prana for Archer to succeed.

 **"So, as I pray!"** Archer called, and then finished in an almost conspiratorial whisper;

 **"Unlimited Blade Works."**

 **-ooo-**

 **Salut! I have arrived! I've been at Anime North this weekend and was just trying to get back into the groove of this particular fic. I havent had the energy for anything but short bursts of inspired writing for whatever interested me at any given moment, so I hadn't been able to put in the work for this - my longest fic.**

 **Still, I think this chapter turned out okay, and bonus points if you put all the context clues together and realize what Archer thinks the Grimm probably are given his history.**

 **Per the usual, I am powered by reviews be they good or bad, and am usually willing to listen to questions via PM. I do have toask that if you want to shoot a story prompt at me it be via PM and not a review since the prompt is unlikely to have anything to do with this story, and reviews are one of the things people look at when trying to determine if they want to get into a new fic.**

 **Oh and as always,**

 **Thanks for reading.**


	29. Without Limits

**POV: Jaune Arc**

There is in this world, nothing that is _truly_ unlimited. The planet exists as a closed system, wherein everything on it stays on it, and is continually reused over the course of thousands of years. When people use the word 'unlimited' to describe something - like say, the amount of food they would be allowed to eat at a buffet - they are either ignorant or exaggerating. In reality, there is a hard limit on the amount of food you could eat before dying, and should someone _somehow_ circumvent that limitation - you would almost certainly be kicked out of the establishment.

All that as a preface, is to say, when looked at from a point of view consistent with reality as it is, _nothing_ is unlimited. Infinity is a concept strictly to be used in theory and philosophy, an unreachable, unattainable end goal that would require subverting existence itself in order to even catch a glimpse of. Whole horror stories have been written to describe the fundamental incompatibility of a truly limitless existence with those of mortal ken.

All of that, every single one of those factoids, was fresh at the forefront of my mind when Archer finished his chant, and the forge fire of his will swept forth to warp reality to his needs. I had once described Tracing as a scar on reality, a black eye to god himself. What I didn't know - _couldn't_ have known then, was how _true_ that statement was.

All around us, in every direction, stretched an endless, barren wasteland. The scorched earth was tinted a rusty red, as though soaked in the blood of an invading army, and every other step across it was marked by a blade. Tall blades, short blades, heavy blades, light blades. Some were majestic and golden in their disposition, while others emanated an almost palpable sense of ill intent. But the majority of them, were plain steel long swords. Every single one was stood straight up out of the ground like a tombstone, and there truly were an _unlimited_ number of them. Somehow - possibly because I was connected to Archer's own perception of this place - I really _did_ know that this place, wherever it was, went on infinitely in every direction.

We appeared dead in the center of that limitless space, gazing forlornly into the burning orange sky. Through the blackened haze covering the sky, tremendous iron gears rotated slowly together, grinding against each other with the faint rasp of rust long left to spread across them.

 _'Where... where_ _ **are**_ _we?'_ I asked Archer incredulously, the sheer impossibility of what I was perceiving through our shared senses enough to distract me from the nearly unbearable pain that supporting Archer's current prana needs was causing me.

"My Reality Marble." Archer replied simply, lowering his gaze from the horizon and focusing his will in a directed manner that did... _something_ to our surroundings. It wasn't with my voice that he spoke, and it wasn't over the mental link we shared that he had answered. It was absolutely and complete Archer's physical voice that had responded to me - which shouldn't have been possible because I could _tell_ that he was still possessing me.

 _'Super vague Archer. Really, amazingly,_ _ **spectacularly**_ _, vague.'_ I retorted not sure of how to feel when an arm wreathed in red cloth that covered deep tan skin stretched out in front of us to pull a sword from the ground that almost certainly had not been present mere moments before this. As it did so, I could feel Archer's mind racing across every portion of the space we were in, taking in and discarding information so fast that merely observing the process from the outside was enough to cause me pain on a spiritual level. It wasn't just the difficulty inherent in the process, it was the sure knowledge that the being, the _mind_ performing that operation was decidedly inhuman. In the blink of an eye Archer finished his sweep, leaving me without any real understanding of _how_ he had done so. It seemed to me almost as if he was casting Structural Grasp on anything and everything that existed in this space, only instead of a quick burst of information the spell was on pretty much permanently - constantly keeping Archer updated as to the contents of his Reality Marble.

Somewhere in these barren wastes there existed every Grimm that we had previously been fighting, several of the Dead, at least one other servant, and a single other human being. I could feel Archer's confusion at that last one, given that he had not intended to draw any other people in here with him, but also felt him quickly shelve the thought. With an exertion of will - and it was _literally_ his will, not Prana, not Aura, not any supernatural force that I could measure or judge - he began to move the beings in the space with us. Caster, who was surrounded by the majority of the surging mass of Grimm, was deposited in the far reaches of the reality along with every one of the beasts of Grimm he was currently standing with. From the servants point of view no movement would have taken place - because in 'reality' it hadn't. Archer had _literally_ decided that the space Caster was standing on was simply somewhere else - and so it was. This of course, left him free to focus on other threats - more specifically, the packs of Grimm that _hadn't_ been with Caster.

"A Reality Marble is an incredibly rare form of Magecraft that borders on true sorcery. It is the manifestation of the soul, expanded beyond the body and pressed upon reality." Archer intoned dourly, pivoting on one foot and sprinting towards the black tide of tooth and claw on the horizon that had appeared there as though by magic. He didn't sound like he was explaining something the way he normally would to me - that being, not very well or with anything even vaguely resembling mysticism - no, he sounded like he was reciting an explanation from memory that someone _else_ had given him.

 _'Like... a wide area Aura?'_ I asked in confusion.

"No." Archer answered firmly as he arrived before the first pack of Grimm to be eliminated. Instead of drawing forth a weapon to be used against the monsters he pointed the sword in his hand forward in an almost imperious pose, causing a sword to rise from the ground and into the air, matching each Grimm. I was expecting to feel another sharp tug on my prana supply like that which accompanied _every_ projection Archer made, but none came, and I almost sighed in relief.

As much as I wasn't acting like it, I was in an almost intolerable amount of pain. I had not, by any stretch of the imagination, had enough Prana to fuel the creation of this space. The fact that we had managed it anyway was purely a testament to the insane speed I regenerated Prana at, coupled with the multiplicative effect my Aura had on my own reserves while Archer was possessing me. Even now I was essentially hovering at zero prana, sustaining this place purely by the skin of my teeth. And it _hurt._ It hurt in a way that my physical body lacked the nerve endings to experience. It hurt my very _soul_ to be converting and using so much of my own life energy all at once. And that was _after_ the mind numbing pain of casting the spell had already been completed.

 _'...No?'_ I repeated, questioning Archers blunt response even as the tide of steel fell upon the Grimm with perfect, unerring accuracy.

"A Reality Marble isn't just a really big spell. You don't get one just by being good at Magecraft. Actually, skill at Magecraft has nothing at all to do with it." Archer explained, whirling around and sprinting towards his next target of opportunity, quickly and efficiently appearing before pack after pack of Grimm and wiping them from existence as if the task was no more of a chore than doing the dishes after a meal.

"A Reality Marble is a rejection of the world around you. It's not enough simply to disagree with the state of things. It's not enough to intellectually revile something. You must - on a level as deep seated as your soul itself - must reject existence itself as being incorrect." He declared, and I heard absolute loathing in his voice as he explained, and knew that he was directing it at himself.

 _'Sounds more like a mental illness than a superpower.'_ I said dubiously, and for the briefest of seconds our combined attention flickered to a brilliant blue and gold sword that rested at the heart of Archers world, standing untarnished by the rust red dirt and dour atmosphere. The blade sat atop the tallest hill there was in this place, as though a king surveying his lands. As quick as the blade came to mind it vanished, and I could feel Archers mouth tighten and his grip on the nameless sword in his hands strengthen almost to the point of shattering it before he relaxed again, turning to face in Casters direction. I knew at that second that the blade in his hands now was merely a substitute for the blade he _really_ wanted to wield. A blade that the self depreciating Archer could never see himself as truly worthy to hold, because to his mind every time he used it, it was sullied by his touch.

Instead of answering my statement directly, Archer marched forward, each step he took eating up vast swathes of land that passed by as if we had set foot on a freight train in motion. We stopped as we crested another hill, finally coming in to view of Caster himself. Or... I thought it was Caster. For the first time since arriving here, I felt shock ripple across Archers mind as he gazed out at the roiling steam cloud before us. It stretched from one end of the Horizon to the other, and whatever it touched - blades, dirt, even the sky and space itself - seemed to shrivel and warp. The steam almost seemed to be devouring Archers Reality Marble, leaving the Grimm - who we could detect as no more than thousands of glowing red pinpricks in murky cloud - completely unharmed.

"Having and using a Reality Marble is like usurping God. The only Prana I use here is that which is needed to maintain my inner world. And the only thing that can contravene my will here is..." Archer stated allowing me to finish the thought for him.

 _'Another Reality Marble.'_ I exclaimed helplessly. I had seen alot of Magecraft since being introduced to the craft. I had a casual understanding of the kind of power at least one of the True Magics could bring to bear. I had seen servants demolish mountains, and fought enemies that I had no right to even begin to contest.

And this was still the most spectacular and unreal display of power I had ever seen in my life. Not for the first time I wondered what kind of lunatic came up with the concept behind all of this, what kind of complete rejection of common sense a person would need to hold to advance their craft so far in the direction required to create such a blasphemous power as this.

"There was no other choice." Archer stated, answering my unspoken question as if he expected it.

 _'Wuh?'_ I grunted in confusion at the statement. I _knew_ Archer, at least, Archer as he had existed at my age. I had seen more than enough of his war, his life, and eventually - his death. Through all of that, even on his death bed, he had never once seemed to regret his decisions. Never once seemed as bitter as the current him. He died how he lived - as an under appreciated Hero.

"When your faced with problems that can't be solved by a human being - no win situations where you have to choose who lives or who dies - eventually you come to realize that there's really only one way to win." Archer explained grimly. He threw the sword in his hand up into the air, where it stopped like a fly caught in a web for a few moments before spinning through the air to join the iron tide of Noble Phantasms that had been slowly gathering behind us.

"You become something _more._ " He declared, and with his words he broke... well everything. Our combined consciousness, which was linked to every weapon and projection in this place, flickered outward - changing every Phantasm behind us into its broken state. And then they began to descend, hundreds of thousands of weapons, each one with its own legend, it's own personality.

Wherever a phantasm fell it detonated, the expanding force of the explosion purging the steam and the Grimm from it's surroundings. The sound was deafening, the rasp of steel as blades scraped against each other to find their targets almost as cacophonous and loud as the explosions themselves.

But it didn't _end_ the fight. Because after only a very brief time spent bearing up under the assault on it's borders, Caster stepped forward, his maces motor rumbling a grind the dirt beneath it and causing the steam that was even now firing from his armor in tremendous gouts to swirl about him like a cloak.

 **"Yes! For this, a true meeting of the minds! The grinding of one ideology against another!"** He declared in his machine amplified voice, the sound of it reaching us even through all the other noise. With one titanic metal hand, he mimicked Archers earlier throwing gesture, and all about him the steam came alive. Streamers and tendrils of the stuff that had been lazily rolling across the Unlimited Blade Works began to twitch and writhe before rushing upward to meet the barrage of steel raining down on him and his forces. Wherever a tendril touched a weapon it faded away, rusting and turning to dust as if sped forward in time.

Casters defense was unable to stop _all_ of the falling weapons, but suddenly our victory didn't seem quite so assured.

 **"For the future I desire!"** The cyclopean servant declared, stomping the ground knce and then charging straight towards us on a jet of steam from his back. The Grimm followed closely in his wake leaping over there dead and dying in the obscuring cloak of ateam Casters passing created.

Archer didn't deign to answer him - his combat methodology demanding he not waste time talking if he couldnt at least rattle his opponent by doing so. His hands shot out wrapping around the hilt of a massive construct of stone that looked like a giant had sharpened a car sized hunk of obsidian more than an actual weapon. We met Casters charge head on, swing that great stone axe at him with all our might, and through massive amounts of reinforcement, perfect timing, and some stolen skill from the weapons original wielder we managed to slam the iron titans weapons upward and away from us.

In the same motion Archer released his grip on the axe, time slowing down to a fraction of its actual speed all about us. I could see Caster - his mace high overhead and poised to strike downward in retaliation. I could see the Grimm mere moments from catching up to us and swarming Archer. I couod see Adams corpse, twitching in agony upon the metal spikes it was impaled on.

And then Archers foot slid forward, and a red pulsating spear appeared in the crook of his arm.

"Gae-" he called out, and I could feel our legs coil up in the prelude to a strike the spears original wielder had used often. Caster too appeared to sense something wrong, because instead of continuing his downward strike, a jet of steam pushed him backwards, once more concealing him from view.

Not that Archer stopped ofcourse.

"-Bolg!" He yelled, thrusting forward with unnerring accuracy into the steam cloud, ignoring the Grimm that leapt at the sight of us, ready to tear our throats out. The world bent, and the spear seemed to roar with hunger as it was thrust. Despite Caster being nowhere in sight we slid forward entering the steam bank behind him. Which is when everything went wrong.

Like the nameless phantasms before it Gaebolg, the spear of the hero Cú Chulainn that would always unerringly strike the heart of its enemies, began to fade and creak beneath our grip. That in and of itself wasn't especially worrying - after all Archer could always make another one. His whole fighting style was predicated on disposable weaponry.

But as Archer and I struck, drawn inexorably forward by the causality break powers of the spear, the steam began to lap against our skin - and my entire world became _pain_. I'm pretty sure I would have lost consciousness if I had a body at the time, but since I didn't, the mind searing agony I had only barely managed to escape with the completion Archers chant came back with a vengeance. The delicate balance I had struck with my Prana reserves quickly began fail as the steam leeched the energy from us, and Archer momentarily stumbled, completely releasing his hold on the cursed spear. I could feel the Unlimited Blade Works begin to flicker and fall apart at the edges, and I was dimly aware of the cyclopean eye of Caster appearing to our right, slamming his mace into our side and sending us sprawling through the mists like a skipping stone. Grimm lashed out at us as we passed and only Archer's stupendous reflexes allowed us to avoid the worst of the attacks, twisting and turning through the air just barely in time to fly over a horn or claw.

 _'Archer!'_ I screeched as I pushed myself harder and harder to maintain our tenuous link to the Reality Marble around us.

"I know!" He answered, crouching down and reinforcing himself to his utmost limits, and then launching himself straight up and - blessedly - _out_ of the steam bank that had begun to take up a perfect half of the infinite space we now resided in. Caster was already visible beneath us, flying upward on a jet of steam that propelled him upward far faster than our desperate jump.

 **"Yield before the power of-!"** Caster yelled jubilantly, his voice crackling and distorted by the whatever system his suit used to project his voice.

"I heard you the first time! _Ig-Alima!_ " Archer challenged, waving his hand through the air towards the charging servant and causing a building sized construction of steel to crash down out of the burning sky atop him. It was pockmarked and lined with strange deformations, as thought the weapon itself had been hewn from a much larger block of the divine steel instead of being forged as a normal blade would be. Ig-Alima, the Mountain Felling sword slammed into Caster, eliciting a new bout of howls from the corpse code on his arm. Still, even with Adam's semblance supplementing his own defenses the Mountain Felling sword was a _divine_ construct, a tool once wielded by gods to shape the earth. There was no way something born of a mortal could challenge it's might head on, and together the two careened back towards the ground with a dull thud the temporarily dispersed the steam directly before us.

" _Aestus Estus_!" Archer declared, wrenching a warped and curving long sword from the air to his right as our upward momentum stalled and we came to a crashing halt atop the hilt of Ig-Alima. The leeching steam was already beginning to return to it's proper place, filling in the gap caused by the swords impact and slowly eating away at the blade where it was buried into the ground. The Grimm that had been hiding in the mists surged forward with it, and before I could ask why we didn't simply barrage them with weaponry like the other groups I could _feel_ the tide of steel as it rushed about the outer edges of the steam, rushing in and darting backwards to distract the almost sentient tendrils of the vapor from us. I had no idea how Archer could keep track of all of this at once. Or rather, I _understood_ but only in the same way a normal person 'understands' that the sky is blue. This place was Archer's inner world, his very _soul_ made manifest. For him keeping track of the uncountable number of blades that resided here was no more difficult than remembering how many fingers he had at any given moment.

The blade in our hands lit up with flame, the white hot tongues of super heated plasma lapping at the air next to us harmlessly as Archer took a stance with the weapon. Grimm flooded up the quickly corroding blade of Ig-Alima towards us, only to be pushed back as Archer swept the Aestus Estus forward, causing the flames emanating from it to whip forward like a living thing, incinerating every Grimm it touched. Before he could complete his eradication of the oncoming tide of white masks though the projection beneath us faltered, Casters Noble Phantasm finally having done it's work and weakened it beyond use. The sudden shift of the crumbling weapon was enough that another tendril of steam brushed against us, and I was once again assailed by unfathomable pain that I had to fight through in order to keep myself and my servant from succumbing. Archer too must have felt the strain I was under, because he faltered just long enough that an Ursa made it to him, swiping one massive clawed paw at us. Despite the relatively slow speeds the thing was moving at compared to a true servant, our debilitated state gave it more than enough time to land it's attack, one that we only barely managed to sprawl backwards and away from, diverting the blow from one that would have snapped our neck to one that merely scraped against the black iron of Archer's breastplate.

Just before Archer could right himself and respond to the attack, a great forced slammed into us from behind, launching us horizontally above the steam bank. The cloths, armor, and flesh of our back was shredded by the temporary contact with what I guessed was Casters huge mace, and we twisted about in the air, ignoring our shared pain to throw Aestus Estus forward. Caster crashed into the outstretched blade mace first, the aerial impact once more hurling us away at a downward angle that brought us ever closer to the leaching steam of his phantasm. His armor was cracking at the shoulder, but instead of circuitry and wire the only thing I could see swirling beneath it was more steam. Steam which billowed out from him in a painful cloak.

Caster continued forward for a third strike, his corpse code wailing the wail of the damned with every motion he took, his single red eye glowing brighter than ever in the murky white of our surroundings.

 _'Archer I don't know if we can beat him on his own turf. Shouldn't we retreat or-'_ I asked, watching with shocked awe as Aestus Estus broke beneath Archer's practiced grip and was hurled to the ground behind us in an explosion of super heated plasma and energy the once more temporarily dispersed the steam there. Almost too late his throwing arm came back up, now holding Bakuya to block Casters next strike at an angle that forced our landing _exactly_ in the clear patch he had created.

 _'We can't. I can only maintain my Reality Marble for so long before the strain gets too much, and if we release it before he's defeated then all the Grimm and the Dead will make it into the city. Not to mention Caster himself. If we don't stop him here we won't stop him at all.'_ He explained to me calmly, a certain Grimm tone in his voice telling me that 'won't stop him at all' was the much more likely of the two options.

 _'How the hell are we supposed to fight when even touching this mist nearly kills us?!'_ I exclaimed, frustrated that even with all this, the power to bend reality itself, we still had a very real chance of complete failure.

 _'That's the thing they never tell you about being a Hero Jaune. You're much more likely to fail than succeed.'_ Archer responded with an almost sick sounding resignation to his voice. Still, despite his mental tone and words, our body fought on, unhindered by doubt. Caster landed next to us with a ground quaking slam only to be immediately assaulted by Archer, who darted forward swinging Kanchou and Bakuya at him with laser precision. Each strike was perfectly placed, heart, kidneys, lungs. Most of the attacks were deflected by Caster, who was surprisingly deft with that mace of his, but more than a few made it past his defenses, causing jagged rents in the titans armor that bled yet more steam into the air.

The two Servants engaged in a lightning fast exchange of blows, until Archer began to change his target, no longer seeking to strike at Caster's vitals but instead to sever Adam from the metal magus' arm. Unfortunately, Caster caught on quickly, leaping backwards and waving his hand outward to cause the steam surrounding us to once more rush inward, eliminating the safe space we had created for ourselves to fight in. Once more pushing our reinforcement to it's limits we rocketed skyward, narrowly avoiding the malicious vapor as it tried to enclose us in a dome. Once more airborne Archer stretched his hand outward, Caster's mace of all things appeared in it, already in the process of swinging downward at the Servant who had chased us upward. The two grinding weapon locked together in an impressive shower of sparks, and as we began to descend Archer smirked, and then said;

"Trace, on. Sul-sagana!"

Caster, not being a complete idiot, foresaw what happened next, and wisely disengaged from us, flying backwards just in time to avoid another mountain sized blade descended towards him. The blade was jagged, as if formed from the spine of a giant beast and fused to four separate pieces of distilled sunfire. No... not a single mountain sized blade I realized with some shock - _several_ of the same weapon. For the first time since arriving here I could feel Archer tugging on my depleted prana, and felt an almost palpable part of my soul come free to fuel what he was doing. It hurt. It hurt so badly that I failed to restrain the mental whimper that escaped my lips as he drew more from me than I really had to give. But then my resolve firmed. Caster and his master could - and _would_ kill every living thing in Vale if they could. I wasn't just fighting for myself, my friends or my family. If we lost here then this could be the end of my very _civilization_. The thought was both chilling and humbling at the same time, as I came to a certain realization about myself. Just like some people would do _anything_ to obtain the grail, so too would I give all of myself if it meant protecting those I cared about.

Even if it meant that this was the last fight Archer and I ever had together.

As thought sensing my resolve, Archer - who was still lazily sailing through the air drew yet more from me, causing each and every one of the falling weapons to _break_. I could think of very, _very_ little that could actively survive that kind of detonation, and I couldn't help but loose a malicious cackle of glee when the weapons landed, and subsequently _exploded_ , completely eliminating the space that Caster, his Grimm, and his Steam cloud had once resided.

Finally free of the worry that we would land in a deathtrap Archer and I wearily slammed into the ground atop the one hill in the whole place that somehow seemed to have grass laying atop it. We sat and watched the fallout of the blast we had created settle, Archer tense and ready to draw forth another Phantasm the entire time.

It was a bluff of course. I was... I think 'spent' would be too strong a word. I wasn't 'spent' I was... less. Withered. Like I had given up some of myself that couldn't be recovered. But I didn't regret it. We had won. We had-

 **"Truly, you are blessed by God."** The tyrannical and static filled voice of Caster called out.

No. No way. How!? Nothing could survive that! If we did that in the city it wouldn't _exist_ anymore. If we did that on the _moon_ Remnant would have a whole new collection of space rocks to look up to at night. So how had... Archer's gaze - and subsequently my own - flicked to the now _glowing_ form of Adam where he was situated atop Caster's arm. Painful red lines of energy crisscrossed his skin, and despite his obvious state of undeath, appeared to be causing him significant pain.

 **"Unfortunately, I have made it my lifes work to supplant the divine. To bring humanity to new heights! TO BRING FORTH, A** ** _WORLD OF STEAM!_** **"** He howled, for the first time showing something besides fanaticism or apathy in his voice. He sounded almost frustrated with us. As though he was trying to convince us of something - though what I couldn't be quite sure. I mean, steam power? We had _dust_. The stuff was infinitely more effective than steam could ever hope to be.

 _'A Reality Marble is a rejection of the world around you._ ' I remembered Archer saying not to long ago. That meant something. Something more than he was telling me. It meant... what? That a Reality Marble was fueled by how messed up the person who owned it was? Was that why Caster was such a nutbar? His adherence to his dreams was so great that he couldn't even see reality for what it was anymore? If so, then what did that say about Archer? What kind of insanity had he-

 _'Is it wrong to want to save everyone in front of me?'_ The memory came unbidden and unasked for, flitting through my mind and filtering down into Archer's complete with accompanying hallucination of the many - _many_ people in Shirou Emiya's life who had been forced to explain to him just how _impossible_ saving _literally_ everyone was. I could feel a palpable sort of disgust flitting through us as the memory touched Archer's mind, and his hand twitched slightly towards a blue and gold blade that had - apparently - been sitting in the hilltop besides us this entire time.

I was wrenched from my daze by the squelching sound of Caster lifting one hand to the brightly burning body on his right arm and squeezing it, causing the entire thing to stop moving and struggle in his grasp. with his other hand he raised his mace high into the air, it's spinning turbine moving faster and faster, drawing into it the steam that was running freely from the rents in Casters armor. Then the burning energy that had been filling Adam seemed to shift slightly, traveling through Casters armor and up into his mace. Suddenly, the force of over a half dozen broken phantasms filled the weapon, and a veritable cyclone of energy and steam rose high into the air, like a pillar intending to shatter the heavens above.

 _"_ Well Jaune, it's kind of hard to say it but - you were a good Master." Archer said lightly, knowing just as well as I did that we had no more left to give.

 _'What? No! Trace a weapon! Summon a bunch of blades!_ _ **Do something!**_ _'_ I squawked at the tired man I shared a body with.

"Jaune. I can't." Archer stated firmly.

 _'Yes you can! There's one right there! Just pick it up! Fight dammit!'_ I demanded, even though I could feel myself physically dying the longer we maintained the Unlimited Blade Works. Archer didn't respond, a slight twitch of his fingers towards the blade next to us the only response he had to my statement.

 _'Don't think I haven't got you pegged you hypocrite! You say you don't give a shit anymore, and that you don't want to be a Hero, but you still helped me! You taught me Mage Craft! You protected me, my friends and my home when no one else could! You've been fighting in this stupid war with me even though you have absolutely no reason to do so! And now! And now! You think that the best you can do, your final act, will be to contain the attack Caster is about to use, so it won't hurt anybody in the city!'_ I raged, willing Archer to move his hand and pick up the golden blade that had somehow shift from being on our right to sitting in the ground directly in front of us.

"So what! Those are things I can **accomplish!** They're clear, achievable goals!" Archer bit back at me, clearly irked by how close to home I had hit with my statement.

 _'And so is this. So shut up, mark a tally on the god damn board, and_ _ **pick up the god damn sword.**_ _'_ I shot back.

"And do what, 'die on my feet'?" Archer said sarcastically _,_ although he did, with only some hesitancy, pick up the sword before us. Instantly information flooded us. Not the brutally accurate list of pro's and cons Archer usually distilled each of his tools down in to, but a genuine, lovingly crafted _history_ of the blade. Of Excalibur, the Sword of Promised Victory. The sword that had once been held by Archers lover, banished back to her own time to die at the end of his war. The sword that had once wrought miracles wherever it went, lifting up a broken people and uniting them under one banner. The sword that bore the honor of being a Last Phantasm. A true divine weapon, craft by inhuman hands to be wielded by one person and one person only.

And we were _not_ that person.

Which meant that the blade in front of us was, in so far as things went, a fake. Not just Archer's usual fakes, but a genuinely useless decoration. An item that existed purely for sentimental purposes. He could complete it if he had to - but much like Ig-Alima and Sul-sagana, the effort would be more than our flagging strength could manage. Hell, just standing was more than we could manage at this point. I could feel Archer's glum acceptance of all of these facts flicker through his thoughts, just like I could feel the genuine sorrow that _this_ was the best way he could think of to show me how futile the situation was.

Unfortunately, I _wasn't_ Archer. I _wasn't_ a broken and run down Shirou Emiya, destined to forever fail his quest. My life hadn't ended yet, and I didn't have some broken down wraith of a man from the future to tell me how it would go. My future was still being decided, and at that moment I didn't rightly care if all odds pointed to that future was destined to end in my death three seconds from now. My mind, busy at it was rebelling against the facts as Archer saw them, shut out everyone else. It shut out the sound of the typhoon like gale raging across the Unlimited Blade Works as Caster readied himself to wipe us from existence. It ignored Archer's gentle apology for how things always seemed to go this way with him. But most of all, like a _true_ Magus, it ignored what I had already been told was impossible.

So what if Excalibur was only meant to be held by King Arthur. I had seen Shirou do it before. Maybe not the Shirou that eventually became my Archer, but _one of them_. And if that stubborn bastard could do it then all I had to do was match his effort - in my own way. After all, I wasn't Shirou Emiya. I wasn't a Sword Incarnation. I couldn't Trace. I couldn't synchronize myself with the history of a weapon to trick it into allowing me to wield it.

But I was damn good at screwing around with Aura, and at the end of the day all an Aura was, was an external portion of the soul.

I could feel my mind and circuits screech in protest as I began to work, haphazardly tugging at what remained of my Aura, my _soul_ and tearing a portion of it away using nothing but my force of will. I could vaguely detect Archer growling at me in protest, demanding I stop whatever it was I was doing, but I ignored his protests. If my options were die doing nothing or die doing something then I would take 'something' every time. Really, anyone would.

I wondered - very briefly mind you - if this was how Assassin had created his cloning technique, but then quickly put the thought out of mind. I wasn't trying to make a clone. I was trying to copy a soul. I groped around in my memory, no, in _Shirou Emiya's_ memory for what I needed, the months of dreams and hallucinations I had been experiencing rushing to the forefront of my mind even as the part of my that still maintained rationale thought noted that I was basically killing myself on a blind gamble. Image after image flickered past, time outside my mental realm slowing to a crawl while I worked until finally my mind landed on a singular moonlit image, of a regal but diminutive woman in royal blue standing over a stupid kid in a shed. A stupid kid that had no idea what he was getting in to.

And then just like my Archer had once done while perusing Waiver Velvet's memories to see the phantasms of the last war, I too felt my mind rush outward, taking in everything about the King of Knights. The shape and feel of her aura, of her soul, did not come easily. It was an old memory, one that even Archer himself probably wasn't sure as to the details behind. Every moment of analysis was another moment of agonizing torture, my circuits feeling as though I was running barb wire through them instead of Prana. But it was worth it, because eventually I _did_ have the measure of Artoria, of the King of Knights.

And once I had _that_ it was the simplest thing in the world to press that little bundle of Aura I had created into the right shape to match it. With a flash of light, I returned to the waking world, to find Archer staring dumbly at the sword in his hands, now glowing with an otherworldly strength matching and possibly even surpassing Casters own prepared attack.

"... _how?_ " Archer asked in sheer disbelief. I would have answered him but I just couldn't seem to muster enough energy to do so. Now all I wanted to do was curl up and sleep until this whole thing was over and done with. It was all I could manage to continue to maintain the painful draw on my existence that allowed the Reality Marble we were in to continue existing.

 _'Hush Shirou.'_ Another voice answered him in my stead. This one soft and gentle, and unmistakably feminine despite its boyishness.

"Sa-" Archer said, his head whipping around but finding nothing and no one else present save for the single other human who he had been safely stashing in a far corner of his Reality Marble.

 _'Shirou. What have I told you? Keep your eyes on your opponent.'_ The voice said, and Archer's eyes widened slightly as he took a stance, lifting the glowing blade of Excalibur above us. Our head turned to to face Caster once more, and it occurred to me that the majority of my mental tinkering and conversation had happened over a very, _very_ short period of time.

 _'Stance wide. Good. You know what to do next correct?'_ 'she' said to Archer, and just like that the burgeoning sense of nostalgia and confusion that had been bubbling up within the Servant was quashed by his iron will. The Excalibur in our hands lit up like a beacon against the night, completely illuminating the sky above us with a pillar of golden energy that would have boggled my mind if I was anything more than a semi sentient lump of spiritual energy at the moment. Much like the Reality Marble, itself the beam seemed to go on forever, an unending tower of brilliance to be brought down on all the enemies of mankind.

 _'Now show him.'_ The voice said, now beginning to grow weaker as the bit of Aura I had used to maintain... whatever this was... began to dwindle.

 _'Show him the man I fell in love with.'_ The disembodied voice of Saber said, before falling entirely silent. I could dimly feel tears threatening to fall from Archers eyes as she spoke, and the image of another Shirou, in another lifetime, standing just like this - with his hands intertwined with his Servants upon the golden pommel of Excalibur.

"Ex-" Archer screamed.

 **"Futile!"** Answered Caster, who finally seemed ready to swing the storm he called a weapon down on us.

"-calibur!" We roared, three voices as one, as both Servants swung their weapons. Energy roared around us as the two opposing forces met, shattering space and time around them and spreading with each passing second to consume more and more of the world around us. The two disparate energies warred with one another like living beings, grappling and thrusting at each other in a desperate attempt to assault the others master. Until finally, the golden force of the Last Phantasm plunged forward, consuming Caster in a blaze of golden fury that erupted in a pillar of light where once the former Servant of the Staff stood.

We basked in the warm, welcoming glow of it for a few seconds more, before Archer interrupted.

"Saber?" He asked tentatively, but received no answer. The sword in his hands once more grew dull as it no longer detected the presence of it's true master, and it fell slack in Archer's hand as he stared at it's slowly waning brilliance.

"Saber this isn't funny. Jaune? Jaune where did she-" He asked but I was at my limit. Caster was dead. The Grimm were gone. The Dead were done for. We had done it. We had saved _everyone_. Just like the Unlimited Bladeworks was _intended_ to. With an unsubtle burst of forge fire the world around us vanished, only to be replaced by a courtyard full of dying Grimm - they didn't vanish like they normally should have in the Unlimited Blade Works - and a veritable _horde_ of people, mostly soldiers, standing about as if greatly confused by the previous lack of anything to fight.

I stumbled out of the transition and turned lazily to try and see if there was anyone here I recognized. Faintly I thought I could see Weiss in the crowd, yelling orders at everyone like always, and seeing no better person to entrust myself too, I stumbled up to her.

" 'ey Weiss. Miss'd you." I slurred before my face hit the pavement, and blessed unconsciousness took me.

-ooo-

 **POV: Raven Branwen**

Well. This was new.

I turned my head - presently in the shape of a Ravens - to take in my new surroundings. I could tell that I wasn't _intended_ to be here. This... whatever this was, was clearly targeted at the Grimm. It was also, quite clearly, an over extension of his Magecraft. I had been watching the blond haired little menace for a little under half a day now, having rushed over to check on him for Juniper. I hated doing 'favors' for the woman, but given that she was the only other 'neutral' party around I didn't have much of a choice.

 _'Plus her Husband is just plain scary.'_ I thought idly, feeling my beak open and shut in response to my casual attempt to lick lips that no longer existed with a tongue that no longer held that functionality. Turning into a bird was a pain in the ass that way. Truthfully, when Juniper asked me to go looking for her useless son I had expected to be searching for a lot longer than this. As a point of fact I had been on my way to ask my brother about him when it dawned on me that the two were basically right next to each other. If I knew more about the woman they were traveling with I would have tried to grab him and go right there and then - before the two had disappeared into those tunnels and my ability to sense and track them had all but stopped working. Unfortunately, all I really knew about her was that she was dangerous and strong, and fiercely dedicated to my brother - almost to the point of insanity really. Thinking on it, those were all fairly workable personality traits.

 _'I wonder if she would consider joining the tribe..._ ' I wondered pensively. It seemed like it would be an easy enough sell. In the tribe strength was _everything_. And since she was so very clearly stronger than my dearest brother Qrow, getting what she wanted from him under _my_ command should be fairly simple. Hmm, it might even bring Ozpin's little lap dog home.

"...Reality Marble." I could vaguely hear someone say in the distance, and - my curiosity piqued - I left my perch atop the pommel of one the many, _many_ swords littering the ground in this battleground to get closer to it. I still had no idea where we were, but as someone who's semblance and Mage Craft hinged on the created of portals I was rarely ever capable of getting lost. I was - at most - interested in this new person who seemed to have come from nowhere to explain the particulars of his ability to thin air.

"...an incredibly rare form of Magecraft that borders on true sorcery. It is the manifestation of the soul, expanded beyond the body and pressed upon reality." The stranger said as I approached, gliding low to the ground to avoid being detected. Their were no other birds in this place. No wild life. No life of any kind really. Only _swords_. And as I landed to get a better look at him I was stunned at the explanation. One of the first things we were taught by that old fool when he took us in and began our training in Magecraft was never, _ever_ , to tinker with our own souls or auras. While usually I would have long since tossed aside any teaching that the old parasite had passed down, the logic behind this particular one was sound. Your soul was the foundation of who you were. The core of your existence, and the anchor to which you were bound in this lifetime. Toying with _that_ was like sticking your hand in a fire to toast a marshmallow. Counter productive and dangerous.

For the briefest of moments I rejected the idea that was being presented to me. Rejected the explanation of the man in red standing stoically with his white hair swaying slightly in the breeze. But then I looked _up_ and my protests died in my throat. Because above us was an alien sky that churned with burning iron. That _could_ be an illusion of some kind admittedly... but what purpose would it serve? This man clearly knew I had used my semblance to follow him here to this... 'Reality Marble' since he was explaining it all to me but...

For the first time I chose to truly examine the man before me. I didn't know what this magic of his did, but when Jaune had finished his little chant _he_ had appeared to whisk away all the danger. So first and foremost he was an ally of the Arcs if nothing else. So if that was the case then was he trying to teach me so that I could -

"No." came the succinct answer from the man, who turned his head slightly so that I was captured firmly in those flat gunmetal grey eyes of his. Tiny flecks of gold spread across the lifeless expanse of his eyes, and just as I was considering returning to human form to demand an explanation he turned away from me, hefting a sword into the air. With an almost casual ease he pointed the sword to the horizon, where a pack of Grimm were charging down a hill at us, and a barrage of steel weapons appeared from thin air to slam into the offensive creatures. He had smitten a small army of Grimm as easily as turning his hand over, and I could feel my blood sing out in response. This, _this_ was power. Strength that could not be challenged. The peak of the Magecraft I had long since considered myself a master of. I didn't know who this stranger was, but as soon as this was over I was going to find him, and I was going to beat him into submission and drag him back to the clan.

Or fuck him.

Or both.

As soon as the first pack had been destroyed the stranger whipped around, sprinting into the distance faster than any Hunter I had ever seen before. Each of his strides seemed to consume the land beneath him, like Reality itself was assisting his movement. Which, if the true meaning of the name 'Reality Marble' held, then it probably was.

"...is a rejection of the world around you. It's not enough simply to disagree with the state of things. It's not enough to intellectually revile something. You must - on a level as deep seated as your soul itself - must reject existence itself as being incorrect." The stranger declared as he ran, and I was only _barely_ able to keep up with him when he stopped to eliminate group after group of Grimm, cleaning up his domain like a janitor with nothing better to do. This wasn't combat. This wasn't a fight or a war or a raid. This was an extermination, pure and simple. And I _wanted it._

"Having and using a Reality Marble is like usurping God." Came the mans final explanation before he turned fractionally towards me and I found myself... somewhere else. It wasn't so that I had moved as I simply found myself once more alone in the endless field of blades. I hadn't detected any prana being used by that mysterious dark skinned man had clearly done _something_ because not only was I lost, but the links my semblance held connecting me to the world around me were... not severed, but _blocked._

I flew around for a time trying to determine where the dour man had gone but no matter what I did I simply found myself no closer to anyone or anything else than I had been when it started. I was just beginning to consider doing something drastic when an explosion rocked the distance, and I turned to find an immense steam bank being harried by an infinite swarm of blades that were flying about it like a flock of birds. Amidst the all that chaos I could just barely see two fighters in the air above the steam, and it was with some shock that I realized what I had assumed was an explosion was merely one of them striking the other in melee.

Suddenly my interest in fighting my stranger lessened greatly. I _liked_ fighting. It validated me. If I was the strongest there was, then it meant no one could hurt me. It meant that me and mine could stay safe while the world around us burned to the ground in the midst of Ozpin and Salems endless, _pointless_ war against each other. And until this point I had thought myself more than powerful enough to maintain that status quo. After all, the Parasite and the Grimm Queen had been fighting for millennia, and nothing had changed. My assistance wasn't going to help. It was just another tally in their eternal game. Something that Qrow and Taiyang never seemed to grasp. But this... this was a whole new world of strength. A tier of power that was beyond my current understanding of the world around me.

More explosions rang out, as the fighting continued in the distance, and then _giant swords_ began falling from the sky, like the judgement of some angry god. Before I even had time to consider the awe inspiring sight the world was wreathed in fire and light, blinding me to everything around me until my aura finished working to repair the damage to my eyesight.

When my vision cleared I found the two combatants facing off against each other in what was obviously the final exchange of their confrontation. The were both clearly wounded, the man in red much more so than the iron juggernaut he was facing off against. The giant metal man said something but I paid it no attention, instead curious as to what my man in red was going to do, how he was going to respond. I resolved myself to stepping in if I had to, not to fight but merely to escape with him. He was injured now, and weak. I would never have a better opportunity to earn goodwill with him, let alone a better opportunity to have him under my thumb.

For a time I thought I would have to do just that, as the white haired magus stood shakily and did nothing in the face of the power gathering around the iron one.

But then 'that' sword appeared. Golden and resplendent in it's bearing. Many of the weapons in this place had an aura, an almost palpable energy that emanated from them. But even the most divine of them seemed to have a subdued presence that made it palatable for mortal consumption. This one though... this one almost felt alien in its strength. It was as though even from here I could tell that the person holding it was _wrong_ somehow. And then... and then it wasn't anymore. The world buzzed and realigned itself, and suddenly I _was_ looking at the rightful wielder of that blade. And then he swung it, and I wasn't looking at much of anything because the explosive energy behind that single strike once more scorched the cornea from my eyes.

By the time my eyesight had recovered we were back in Vale, and the man who had protected Jaune was no where to be found. I watched the boy from my new perch atop a light post, committing what I had just experienced to memory as he stumbled through the crowd to Winter Schnee of all people. Then I left to return to the Arc residence. I flew a distance past the inner walls of the city, landing on the ground and then returning to my human form. It burned me to admit it, but there was no one I could ask about Magecraft who was better informed than Juniper Arc. Even Ozpin sometimes seemed perplexed by her seemingly brilliant leaps in logic.

"Reality Marble..." I mumbled with my brows furrowed, wrenching a sword from my sheathe and cleaving open a portal to my intended destination.

-ooo-

 **POV: Winter Schnee**

We arrived to the scene of the supposed breach with utmost haste, only to find nothing of note there. Oh, there was a tremendous whole in the defenses, but there was nothing coming out of it. It was simply a tunnel. There were no corpses, no Grimm, and no fighting. All things told nothing about what had been reported to us was present.

Which was _beyond_ aggravating. Our forces had been in this city for all of a single day and in that time I had come to find that I quite hated it here. Absolutely nothing had gone my way since arriving here. Ozpin had rejected General Ironwood's requests for a meeting citing 'oversight of an important mission', my sister had refused to answer my calls - which I later found out was because she and her team had apparently left the school for some middle of nowhere town called Ansel - and now I was responding to what was apparently a _prank call_ with the better part of two squads of Atlesian soldiers.

"Specialist Schnee, Sir." One of the soldiers said, saluting to me as he walked up. It was _almost_ a perfect salute. The urgency the man was no doubt feeling prevented him from coming to a complete stop and therefore placing his feet correctly, but I forgave him for it given the circumstances. Plus, I was already well known as a 'frigid bitch' by many of the soldiers and non-coms. I had no wish to completely alienate them.

"At ease. Report?" I answered easily, keeping my hands firmly clasped behind my back.

"Sir, there's nothing here, but the nearby civilians insist the Grimm were flooding into the city. All of the nearby buildings have been barricaded." The soldier, clearly nervous about how I would take this information - as though I somehow couldn't clearly see everything he was reporting from where I was standing.

"Plug the hole in the defenses and send word to the fleet that we will be providing support to the parts of the city that were bombarded by the mountain as it fell. This is no longer a combat operation but a relief effort." I stated decisively. There was no point in stewing here for any longer than was necessary, and while I could simply return to the airship and await further orders, I thought it was best to make something of this outing.

"Yes si-" The soldier began with another - not quite correct - salute. However before he could finish the situation changed _drastically_. For one thing, a teenage boy appeared in the middle of the plaza. He was battered, bruised, and bleeding from several wounds on his chest and shoulders, and his pasty white skin was broken up by an almost snake like blotch of burnt brown flesh that seemed to stretch from his ravaged chest up to his face. His golden blonde hair was likewise marred by a single lock of pale white, and he looked practically delirious with how exhausted he was. Before I could even finish examining him, or ordering my men to care for him, a veritable army of Grimm appeared. Literally _appeared_. Hundreds of the terrible beasts appeared in the streets of the city, a veritable black tide that sent of jolt of fear through my body and sent my hand darting for my weapon. The click of safeties coming off rang out in the area as the surrounding soldiers took aim with their firearms and then... nothing. The Grimm, as if by unanimous decision, simply began to slump over and die. So bizarre was the sight that I nearly didn't notice the boy who had appeared first stumbling his way toward me.

My men moved to stop him from approaching but at this point I was more curious than threatened. I highly doubted this boy had appeared at the same time as the Grimm purely by coincidence. I could also hear the subtle sound of cameras clicking away behind me, past the perimeter we had erected around the area. It probably wouldn't look good to be rough with the boy in full view of the public - even if I did _desperately_ want answers to what the hell was going on.

" 'ey Weiss. Miss'd you." The boy said, slurring like a drunk as he came to a halt in front me. I had just a moment to consider the fact that he knew my sister before he toppled forward, slamming into the ground with an audible thud. I stared at his prone form for a second before snapping back to attention, turning towards the soldier that had previously been reporting to me.

"Well?! Get a stretcher, he needs medical attention!" I barked, making sure to use my officers voice. Soldiers react best to the familiar. That's the whole point of training them. Even a soldier that has no idea what's going on will react with split second reaction times if you talk to them like they're still in boot camp. They're like dogs that way.

"Miss Schnee, what just happened?"  
"Do you know who this is?!"  
"Do you have any idea how this many Grimm arrived in Vale?!"

A barrage of voices called out behind me, breaking the tense silence the arrival of so many Grimm had inspired prior to this. I felt my brow begin to twitch and quickly schooled my features as the vultures swept in, no longer afraid of what might lay in wait for them. I silently debated between the air headed smile my father advocated for use with the press, and the cold demeanor that was proper for an officer of the Atlesian Military before settling on the latter.

After all, it wouldn't do for the vultures to think I _enjoyed_ talking to them.

-ooo-

Elsewhere, in a recently reconstructed home in Ansel, seven sisters and their mother were crowded around a single scroll on their kitchen table. Across the room, their father - one Nicholas Arc - was happily cooking plate after plate of bacon and eggs, pleased with the previous days achievements. True one of his homunculi bodies had been destroyed, but that was a small price to pay for knowledge of his sons whereabouts.

"...Dad?" Jasmine said, her voice tinged with distress. The poor girl never did like the necessity of fighting. He had hoped that she could be spared the true knowledge of his plans for a few years yet, but Jaune's Aura getting awakened had thrown his timeline off somewhat. He allowed a tinge of his own worry to filter through his being at that thought. If only his headstrong son hadn't hared off into the unknown the second he took his eyes off of him, then they would be in the Grimmlands learning Magecraft together right now. God knows what Ozpin had been filling his head with these last few months. Hopefully not that abortive bastardization of true Magecraft he taught all his pawns.

"Yes sweety?" he answered, injecting a false cheer into his voice as he set out his 10th plate of food. It wouldn't do to starve his prisoners after all. They _were_ still technically Jaune's friends.

"We found Jaune." his youngest daughter stated.

"I know dear. We'll go get him from school as soon as-" He said but was cut off.

"Nicholas." His wife said with the sort of calm fury that usually meant he had better stop what he was doing and pay attention. Instantly Nicholas felt a chill go up his spine at the tone. In his many years of marriage he had grown well familiar with it.

With slow, deliberate motions he walked around to the rear of the group to peer over their shoulders at the Scroll before them. The Scroll that was even now displaying a news report about a huge invasion of Grimm in Vale. A huge invasion of Grimm that his son was apparently standing in the middle of, wounded and having overused his circuits to the point of near death. Suddenly feeding those pissants from Ozpins academy fell down to the bottom of his priority list, as he worked to contain the fury that filled him.

Jaune was the most important piece in the most important project that he had ever endeavored to complete - which was saying quite a bit given his creation of the Philosophers Stone and any of a dozen other Alchemical Miracles. Yes he loved his son, but even more so than that, was all the _work_ he had put into hand crafting each and every one of his children. It might seem impersonal, but to his mind there was no one closer to their children than he was.

After all, he hadn't fought in three separate Holy Grail Wars just so that this, the _last one_ could be ruined by some idiot in a high tower.

 **-ooo-**

 **Sorry for how long this chapter took to release. No the stories not dead, but this is my primary fic and I have a hard time sitting down to lay into it when I'm so busy at work. I'm not as stressed out about writing other stuff in the snippets of time I'm not working because I'm not as interested in whether or not those stories are successful. I just write them for fun. This story is different, and I wanted to really do the Unlimited Blade Works justice.**

 **For some background, right now is the busy season for me at work, which fluctuates between months of nonstop overtime, and months of literally nothing to do. Once I make it back to the 'nothing to do' part of that I'll be better able to focus on and update this story at my previous speed, but for now I'll be throwing a chapter of this out only once in a while, but it's definitely not dead.**

 **In other news. This chapter sees the arrival of Raven and Winter. Winter isn't of particular consequence just yet besides being there to denote Ironwoods arrival in the city somewhat later than in the canon, and so there's an outside perspective of what Jaune's aftermath looks like to the average person. Raven is a bit different. She's sort of hard to write because in the canon she's kind of one dimensional, and a lot of her motivations are sort of petty. Here I'm trying to do her up a bit more like someone who actually has a reason for what she does besides the whole 'power matters and screw you' bit. She still wants power, but she wants it because being weak means you're at someone elses mercy. She still doesn't want anything to do with Ozpin or Salem - but that's because she doesn't see the point. Without the ability to see the future and observe the events of canon she can be sort of forgiven for thinking that Ozpin and Salem fighting all the time is a zero sum game that no one will ever win and that nothing will ever change. So obviously her primary interest is in not dying for nothing over it. In that same vein, the Arc family exists as a similar neutral party, though more for their own reasons.**

 **Finally, this chapter is brought to you by Canada Day and it's accompanying day off, which gave me enough time to meet my social obligations and still write.**

 **Oh and as always,**

 _ **Thanks for reading.**_


	30. Comfortably Confused

**POV: Pyrrha**

 _'Your sure?'_ I asked Rider for what must have been the hundredth time in today. It had been about a day and a half since our abortive attempt to find Jaune for what was - nominally - just supposed to be a nice weekend with his family. Thinking back on it I still couldn't quite understand _why_ we had ended up fighting them. On the surface we had no reason to do so. After all, we were looking for Jaune just as much as they were, albeit with significantly less fervor. And yet here I was, sitting in what I had been told was Jaune's bedroom along with six other people, which made for a somewhat cramped space.

 _'Yes Master_ _ **.**_ _That man downstairs is definitely not human. The black haired one killed him during the fighting and -'_ Rider reported dutifully, not an ounce of annoyance or hesitancy in her voice from being forced to repeat herself. Unfortunately _this_ time she _had_ actually reported something I didn't necessarily know already.

 _'She_ _ **what?!**_ _'_ I shrieked, my head whipping around to stare holes into Blake where she sat curled up into a corner of the room she had cleared of Jaune's laundry. She was seated on the floor - like most of us were with the exception of Nora and Ren who had claimed the bed - and seemed very, very, annoyed with herself for some reason. Her facial expression would change periodically, and her lips occasionally moved as if she was speaking to herself, but no actual sound came from her. At first I considered asking her if she too, had a servant - it would explain the talking to herself - but I quickly discarded the idea. If Blake had a servant then Rider would have probably been able to tell by now.

 _'She killed the man - I believe he claims to be Jaune's father -_ downstairs.' Rider repeated plainly, speaking as though she were in the room with me. She wasn't of course. Jaune's parents - or at the very least his Mother - were competent Magus'. Likely much more competent than Jaune himself. I already knew that he had placed protections on our room against an intruding servant, so I had to assume his family home had much the same protections. Rider was still my trump card, the one thing the Arc family couldn't predict and wouldn't be able to fight against, but I was hesitant to unleash her on the unsuspecting group. For one thing, they were - however strange they were - Jaune's family. For another...

 _'And why didn't you step in to stop her?! You said you'd stop things from getting out of hand!'_ I accused, distressed but not _surprised_ by Riders actions.

 _'There was never a point in time where your friends lives were in danger, so I didn't see a reason to reveal myself?'_ My servant said hesitantly, unsure of why that was a difficult notion for me to stomach. I should have been surprised at the ruthlessness of it but the few weeks I had spent with Rider had long since inured me to her way of looking at the world. Rider came from a time when murdering a neighboring tribe for food to survive the winter wasn't uncommon. She came from a time and a place that was exceedingly brutal compared to my own, and as such her method of determining what mattered and what didn't was simple. My friends mattered. Everyone else didn't. She might - had she been feeling generous - have considered Jaune's family important purely as a side effect of being related to Jaune, the boy I li- was be- who was my friend. Unfortunately that small bit of goodwill apparently went out the window when they started applying potentially lethal force to my friends.

I darted a glance to Ren as my thoughts fell to the injured. Most of us had been hurt in one way or another by our battles, but Ren and - to a lesser extent Nora - were the only members of our group to have needed actual medical treatment after the fact. Jaune's mother, Juniper, had happily provided us with all we would need to care for the bedridden boy, but that didn't make seeing him pale and haggard on the bed didn't spark a pang of regret in me. That fight simply hadn't been necessary. More so than that, _splitting up_ hadn't been necessary. It seemed that regardless of our training together we still had work to do with regards to fighting as a team. From what I could gather after the fact, Nora and Ren were the only ones who had even _tried_ to assist anyone else, though that much would have been obvious to anyone that knew them.

Sighing deeply, I eyed the other occupants of the room. Yang was comforting Ruby near the foot of the bed, the smaller girl unable to understand why Jaune's family was holding us prisoner, Blake was - as previously mentioned - sulking in a corner, Nora and Ren were recovering on the bed, and Weiss was -

"Weiss? What are you doing?" I asked, masking the slight annoyance my voice contained. Out of all of us, Weiss was the only one who didn't seem bothered by our current predicament in the slightest. Instead, she was shuffling through a handful of hastily scrawled notes that she had found on Jaune's desk while fiddling with a dust crystal she had found sitting next to them.

"Reading, obviously. Did you know Jaune's current use of dust wasn't even his original goal? He was actually trying to store aura in these things." She said waving the little blue crystal in the air at me without looking up from her reading.

"I can actually see how it would work. I think the problem he was having was that anything he put in took on the element of the Dust, which he hadn't accounted for, since all of these formula were intended to prevent unaspected Aura from -"

"Weiss. We are being held _prisoner."_ I stated flatly, cutting the white haired girl off and causing her to turn slightly so she could glare at me out of the corner of one eye while she read.

"Yes, in a teenage boys bedroom with no bars and no actual guards." She pointed out dryly, lifting the dust crystal in her hand up to look at it in the light.

Ah, yes. I had completely forgotten. Nobody on Team RWBY actually understood the full scope of what it meant to be a Magus. They all simply thought that Jaune's craft was a highly advanced form of Dust manipulation. Jaune had never actually taken the time to explain the intricacies of it all to them. Like the average Magus' propensity to torture and experiment on people. Or how they had apparently sent their son off to fight in, as Ren would describe it, a 'Magical Murder Ritual' only to have lost track of him. Another reason Rider couldn't reveal herself so easily. If Jaune's family knew I was a master they would likely attempt to kill me on the spot, if only to save Jaune the trouble. I had just about opened my mouth to try and get all of that across in as direct a manner as possible when Blake of all people beat me to it.

"It's... I think it's much worse than that Weiss." Blake said with a wince as every set of eyes in the room turned to her. For a second the I thought I saw the ribbon that was ever present on her head twitch slightly at the attention, but it quickly stopped as she continued speaking.

"When I was first... coming... to Vale, I actually rode the same train as Jaune." The dark haired girl said hesitantly, eyes darting about the room as though expecting an interruption.

"Yes Blake, we are aware of the kiss the two of you apparently shared on your ride here. Given the fact that the train was nearly blown up by those scum in the White Fang I can't exactly hold it against you." Weiss retorted with a roll of her eyes.

A heat wave of barely suppressed annoyance spread through me, causing my shoulders to twitch slightly and my breathing to hitch imperceptibly before continuing on normally. They had what? _I was not aware_. I had _absolutely positively no idea_ that had occurred. And now I very much wanted Blake's explanation to continue. Not because that bothered me or anything. It just seemed like talking would be better than arguing with Weiss. We could all use a distraction after all.

"No that was... I just said that so Jaune would shut up!" Blake yelped back, a slight blush creeping onto her face at Weiss' words.

"Oh? Then what _did_ happen Blake?" I said, making sure to control my tone and my facial expression so that I would be smiling kindly and speaking in a soothing tone of voice. Strangely, whenever I had done this recently in an attempt to cover my scowl - like now for instance - the response I got was... less than heartening. Blake, along with just about everybody else in the room, shivered slightly, as if afflicted by a wave of cold air, and then the aloof member of team RWBY paled noticeably before spluttering onward with her story.

"W-we I mean, He - that is... Jaune killed the terrorist! With a bow!" Blake blurted out eventually, flinching backwards so far she actually bumped into the wall behind her. I blinked at her several times in confusion not sure how to respond to that.

"...and what relevance does that have to the current situation?" I finally said, straining to keep my voice even.

"Yeah Blake I mean, Jaune's a sword and board guy. We all know that. I don't think I've ever actually seen him even touch a bow." Yang jumped in, though she was clearly bothered by something else entirely than what we were talking about.

"Yeah, a sword and shield that he's _terrible_ with!" Blake said, wrapping her arms around her middle anxiously while the blush on her face quickly changed from embarrassment to anger.

"I don't see what that has to do with our current predicament Blake." Weiss said suspiciously.

"Think about it! His family are all super amazing fighters that none of us have ever heard of, he's secretly amazing with a bow, and he completely changed weapons when he came to school! They're clearly secretly Assassins or something, and Jaune came to school to get away from them!" Blake blurted out her entire hypothesis at once, causing everyone in the room - including an only barely conscious Nora - to sit up and stare at her. I had to try _very hard_ not to laugh at her. There were some very interesting leaps in logic at work there, but I could definitely see how someone might come to that conclusion if they didn't know about Jaune's own Servant, Archer.

"That _would_ explain alot..." Weiss added after a few seconds of dumbfounded silence from everyone else. I could feel my head turning jerkily to stare at her, unable to understand how exactly she could find _any_ part of that explanation 'sensible' when she herself was at least somewhat aware of the existence of Archer.

"I had thought Jaune's ability with Dust was eerily similar to my families own Semblance for some time now. I assumed the Arcs were just an offshoot of the Schnee's, and left it at that, but I never considered _why_ the family might have branched off." Weiss said, expanding on her previous statement.

"So what he's your cousin or something? Ew." Yang quipped wrinkling her nose and and making retching noises.

"That makes all those rumors about you two _super_ gross." she continued, not noticing the confused look Ruby shot her way at the statement.

"Why would it be weird for cousins to play patty cake?" Ruby asked innocently, causing the room to freeze once more as basically everybody who wasn't me or Nora shifted to trying to dissuade Ruby from pursuing the topic any further while simultaneously shooting dirty looks at the blond trickster who had started those rumors in the first place.

Ignoring team RWBY's usual antics, I exchanged unenthusiastic looks with Nora for a moment, before the ginger waved lazily towards me and returned to napping beside the unconscious Ren, clearly putting the burden of fulling explaining the situation we were in on me and me alone. Trust Nora to control herself and not bother to say anything the one time her over excitable nature would have come in handy.

"I... don't think either of you is correct..." I said hesitantly, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. What followed was a lengthy explanation of everything surroundings Jaune's circumstances as I understood them. The Grail War, Magic, Servants. For the most part, no one believed me, which was only natural. Unlike Jaune I couldn't use a display of power to get my point across, nor could I summon my Servant into the room to make my point.

Having somewhat expected the skepticism I settled in for a very long, very involved argument, all the while hoping that Ozpin had a plan for getting us back before I was forced to unleash Rider on my hosts.

-ooo-

 **POV: Jaune**

Everything hurt. Not in an 'unfathomable pain beyond my mortal ken' kind of way like I had been in previously, but more like the kind of pain you end up in the day after a really intense workout. Only like, dialed up to about a hundred.

Okay so maybe it was closer to unfathomable pain than leg day pain.

"He's waking up." A voice I didn't recognize said clinically from somewhere to my right, cluing me in to the fact that my eyes were closed and, more importantly, that there were other people in the room with me.

"I'll call the General." Another voice said with some excitement, and I could dimly hear a door opening and slamming shut. I debated for a moment the benefit of opening my eyes and acknowledging the fact that I was awake, but then I realized something. I hadn't gotten this much sleep in _ages_. It seemed like from the minute I got summoned Archer my dreams were constantly being harried by memories that weren't my own, and my waking hours were spent so consistently worried about enemy Magi that sleep became almost a secondary concern. I had been surviving on two or three hours of sleep a night for _months_ now, and for the first time I felt... well not 'safe' but, _comfortable_ would be the word. I mean, if someone was going to secretly murder me then they would have probably done it _before_ I woke up. Even if Archer _did_ take over my body and defend me, we were both so spent that he wouldn't have been able to do much else but wake me up so I could die on my feet.

I don't know how long I continued on that train of thought - trying to convince myself it was okay to just go back to sleep that is - but evidently it was long enough that whoever had left to get the 'General' had returned, since the door opened and shut once more.

 _'Archer?'_ I asked my servant plaintively.

 _'Finally awake huh? Do you want to explain to me that bit at the end there? Because I may or may not_ _ **murder you**_.' He answered instantly. It spoke volumes about the nature of our relationship that he I was pretty sure he was being _entirely candid_ with me. For most other people he wouldn't have said _anything._ They'd be sleeping in bed one night and then a quick arrow through the window would do the rest. Still, the ease with which he could kill me aside, this wasn't what I had called Archer for.

 _'Can it wait until I know where I am and who has me?'_ I suggested, perfectly willing to stall for time. It wasn't like I didn't _want_ to explain what I had done in the last seconds of our fight with Caster. I just _couldn't_. In a broad sense yes, I could definitely explain. But in practical terms I wasn't sure what I would need to do to replicate the effect. I was pretty sure I had ripped off a chunk of my Aura and isolated it somehow towards the end but since that was _literally_ both impossible **and** insane I didn't really know what to say about it.

 _'...you had better have a good explanation because I have to admit that if you give me the jazz hands and say you tricked me then you don't want to know what my response will be. Also, you're in some kind of Airship. I couldn't figure out much more than that - it's too high up for me to jump to, and I've only been awake for a little bit longer than you.'_ Archer said, allowing me to table the conversation for the moment but clearly not being happy about it.

 _'An Airship? I don't think Vale has any of those. Just a fleet of Bullheads. They're too expensive to keep in the air. The only place that can afford them is-'_ I said, more thinking aloud to Archer than actually explaining anything.

"Young man, is it your intention to keep me waiting or would you like to continue pretending to be asleep." A hard voice chided from off to my left, reminding me that I was, in fact, still surrounded by people I don't know.

"I mean - I _am_ a teenager." I shot back petulantly without actually moving or opening my eyes.

"A teenager who was found at the site of the biggest breach in Vale's defenses ever known, covered in wounds and surrounded by Grimm." The voice stated matter of factly. It was the type of straightforward statement laced with accusations and threats I had come to expect from Archer - which told me that I had better start taking this seriously because I wanted absolutely nothing to do with anyone that astute who wasn't implicitly on my side.

"Fair point." I said, and with a groan I allowed my eyes to flutter open, blinking away the sleep from them and straining against the bright light hanging directly overhead. I quickly got my right hand under me and used it to leverage myself up from the hospital bed I was apparently in, and looked around to find myself in an extremely small room with no windows and nearly no adornments except the IV drip to my right, and the chairs my two visitors were sitting on.

To my left sat a man who looked like he ate nails for breakfast. He was tall, broad shouldered, and square jawed. His short black hair was combed to one side and perfectly cut to the military standard, with what looked like an early whitening of the hair on the sides of his head being the only signs of what was clearly a stressful life. I knew he was in the military because of the standard issue Atlesian dress uniform he was wearing, complete with a smattering of badges and medals on one breast. I didn't know who he was trying to impress - certainly not me - but he definitely _seemed_ like he was getting ready to scare the shit out of someone. He made no move to speak when I sat up and looked at him, his lips merely pursing at my attention, and I quickly looked away in the hopes that I could avoid talking to the guy for a few seconds longer.

Which was how I ended up looking to the right at a woman so stern looking she could give Goodwitch a run for her money. She was just sitting there with her hands in her lap, wearing a slightly more tailored version of the suit the general was wearing, but her posture was so stiff and rigid that for a second I thought she must genuinely have a rod attached to her back to hold her so still. Prim and proper didn't do the lady justice, with her snow white hair done up in a severe bun that was probably just as tightly wound as she looked, and a glare on her face that practically dared me to offend her with my silly commoner opinion. Honestly she looked like a grown up Weiss. A grown up Weiss with a rack.

"Excuse me!?" She squawked indignantly, leaning forward raising one hand with a single finger pointed at me accusingly, just like Weiss would if I had said...

"Did I say some of that out loud?" I asked weakly, not so far removed from initiation that I couldn't remember what had happened the _last_ time I had forgotten to engage my brain to mouth filter.

"Yes. Yes you did. Winter why don't you check in with Ozpin, I'll talk to him privately." The man to my left said, immediately stopping the very Weissesque tirade about propriety and etiquette Winter was about to lay down on me. With an almost practiced ease the glare she had been leveling at me simmered down to a mere look of distaste, and her posture had returned to its previously untarnished state.

"Yes sir." She said with all the professionalism and inflection of a robot. As she did so she stood, saluted, and pivoted on one heel to exit through the heavy iron door leading into my room. Wait. A heavy iron door? For a _hospital room?_

"Sorry but uh, am I under arrest for something?" I asked without actually turning away from where I had just seen the retreating back of Winter. She had one of those Goodwitch strides that was completely devoid of anything even vaguely resembling sex appeal. She couldn't have been more intimidating if every step she took she was imagining trampling on the skulls of her enemies. Come to think of it, you read a lot of books where the babes always seem to be sauntering or sashaying everywhere but I don't think a single one of the women I knew actually did that. Well, there was my mom but...

Nope, don't think about Jaune.

"No son, but we _do_ need you to answer some questions." The man said, and finally I turned to look at him fully.

"And I'd be happy to answer them but first I have one of my own." I said boldly, at least semi confident in my ability to go through the nearest wall and make it to the ground mostly unharmed. Probably. Maybe.

 _'Archer if I have to jump off this thing you can save me right?'_ I asked my Servant, not wanting to leave such a thing up to chance. I'd be able to save myself if I had my Mystic Code, but since I had no idea where Flamen Volcanalis _is_...

"And what would that be?" The man asked, his eyes narrowing as though he expected me to throw him a curve ball. I mean, I _was_ but screw him for thinking the worst of me without any evidence still.

 _'It would depend. There's a whole fleet of smaller ships I could probably bounce us off of on the way down, but they'd probably start shooting at us at that point so I can't advise doing it.'_ He replied, and I caught a mental flash of the image outside the ship as Archer saw it. He wasn't kidding when he described our surroundings as a fleet. What the hell were this many guys from Atlas doing in Vale? Assuming we were even still _in_ Vale.

 _'We're still in Vale right?_ ' I asked, trying my best to further my understanding of the situation before I actually responded to the guy I had to assume was 'The General'.

 _'Right over it. They escorted this big coliseum looking thing in over the city earlier today."_ Archer confirmed, allaying at least one of my fears. The coliseum he was talking about was probably the Amity Coliseum, the site of the Vytal Festival. It was pretty much a floating stadium that all four nations had worked together to build, so it would make sense for it to have an escort on the way here from Atlas. No telling what some lunatic would do given access to it.

"Well I mean... Does Ozpin know you have me?" I asked nervously, hoping that name dropping the older Magus would at least score me some points or imply I had his backing. The General scrutinized me for a couple of seconds before speaking, but when he did his steely blue eyes were locked on to me with a horrendous focus, as though daring me to say something stupid or lie.

"Did I not just send Winter to talk to him?" he pointed out with a hint of exasperation in his tone.

"Yeah but you didn't say it was about _me_. You could just as easily have arranged that ahead of time to get me to trust you, knowing I'm a student at Beacon." I said, and then nearly leapt backwards out of my bed when the Generals facial expression morphed from stern interest to a sort of cold detachment. It wasn't inherently threatening but it definitely gave the impression that he was about to wash his hands of me. Probably in a very lethal and definitive way.

"And what reason could I have for being so deceitful with a _child_ I wonder." He said clearly fishing for answers.

I hated this. The weird doublespeak thing I mean. He clearly thought I knew something and I clearly thought he thought I knew something and together we were both just sort of throwing non answers and counter questions at each other in the hopes the other one would give up and spit it the hell out. I hadn't been this annoyed by an interrogation since that time in the middle east with- no wait. I had _never_ been to the middle east. And wasn't I taking this whole 'imprisoned on a military ship' thing way to well? I should be freaking the hell out right now, but instead I was mostly just focused on not giving up any information or dying. I'd had a lot of weird memory bleed ever since I had summoned Archer, but I had never been _completely_ unable to tell when I was experiencing one of his memories. And that worried me, because it meant whatever was going on was probably getting worse. I opened my mouth to say something else uninformative when the door to my cell squealed open once more, and Qrow of all people walked in.

"How are ya Jimmy. Thanks for watching the kid for us. I'll be taking him now." The grouchy drunk said with an almost malicious glee, completely ignoring the obviously tense atmosphere in the room.

"Qrow, I realize you must trust him but he caused an _invasion_ of _Grimm_. His weapon has a kind of Dust in it that we've _never seen before_ , and he's obviously been trained to handle - at the very least - _light_ interrogation." The General - Jimmy I guess - bit out, allowing his visage to become one of annoyance.

"Geeze you're as paranoid as Ozpin. Me and the kid were on a mission to _stop_ that invasion. It's not his fault we got separated. All that other stuff is just more of Ozpin's 'weird shit' that you hate so much." Qrow quipped as he slid over to me and offered me a hand up which I took gratefully. I never thought I'd be more happy to see the man, and without Amber anywhere in sight. I assumed the woman was at least okay or Qrow wouldn't be so... cheerful. Actually, this was the most cheerful I had ever seen the man, and I couldn't tell if that was because Amber was missing or because he just _really_ liked to mess with this Jimmy guy.

"I don't hate 'weird shit' as you put it Qrow, I just don't like _literal magic_." Jimmy growled.

"And yet here you are, poking at a _literal Magus._ " Qrow shot back.

"Um. Sorry Mr uh... Jimmy, but did you say that someone took apart my shield? That took me ages to make so I'd really appreciate it if -" I started, realizing that Qrow and Jimmy seemed more like arguing friends than actual enemies at this point. Plus he apparently knew about Magecraft so he was... _probably_ one of Ozpin's guys.

"And another thing! Why on _earth_ would you send a _child_ to -" Jimmy stopped mid sentence as though something I had just said physically wounded him and then turned to me, a much more _human_ look on his face than when we had first started speaking.

"My name is James Ironwood. Only Qrow calls me Jimmy." He said flatly, leaving the 'and gets away with it' unsaid but obvious.

"O-oh. Sorry. It's just, you never told me your name so I assumed..." I said trailing off when he continued to give me that flat stare, accompanied by Qrow's hysterical laughter as a backdrop.

"Look, if nothing else, we need to know where he got that Dust from. It's somehow unbelievably powerful without becoming unstable and explosive. We could power the ship for a week on one vial of the stuff." James said, a note of pleading in his voice as he turned back to Qrow. It took me a couple of seconds to understand why. Now that Qrow was here to vouch for me he really _couldn't_ keep me against my will, not without it turning into a huge political debacle. "General Kidnaps Teenager from Vale" would be a pretty career ending headline, and there was just no way Atlas would allow someone with that kind of bad press to continue on without some kind of punishment.

Wait, _how long_ did he say he could power this thing for with my Dust? Was my Magecraft _that_ cost prohibitive? Man I really need to pick up something else to apply myself too. I had never really considered the monetary value of my Fortified Dust, and now that I was doing just that, it occurred to me that I was carrying a small fortune around with me at pretty much any given moment.

"Look I know you don't really get the whole magic thing Jimmy, but most of us don't love explaining our secrets to other people." Qrow drawled, rolling his eyes just for good measure. Now standing I considered my options. Fortified Dust wasn't really difficult for me to make anymore, I had it down to an almost reflexive action at this point - but that didn't mean I wanted to go selling the stuff to just anyone.

"Qrow?" I asked hesitantly, interrupting he and James once more as they devolved into an almost juvenile bout of bickering. Or rather, as Qrow shot insults at Ironwood and Ironwood appealed to him using logic and reason which he succinctly ignored. You can always trust Qrow to be the bigger man child apparently.

"Yeah?" He answered immediately, veering off from James as though he hadn't really been paying the conversation that much attention in the first place.

"Do you... I mean, do you trust this guy? Mountain Glenn was really messed up and it would have been kind of nice to just bomb it out of existence..." I said slowly, not really having to extol the virtues of superior firepower.

"Eh, Jimmy has a rod up his ass so far they named him Ironwood but he's one of the good guys at least." Qrow said with a shrug. I turned to the General to gauge his reaction to the statement but he was mostly just squinting at Qrow with one eyebrow raised as though unsure of whether to take the compliment or feel insulted.

"Then... General." I said, drawing his attention to myself.

"What exactly would you do with the person who made the Dust?" I asked, noting his eyes lighting up at the prospect.

"Offer them a job in Atlas." He stated immediately before expounding on the single sentence answer.

"We'd provide him with anything he needed to continue his work, a security detail to make sure no one else could steal it, and a handsome benefits package. I can't stress enough how much of a force multiplier that Dust could be. Better weapons, faster ships - the possibilities are almost limitless." He said.

"He'd be a kept man is what Jimmy is saying." Qrow supplied unhelpfully.

"Right well... what if he uh, _didn't_ want to leave Vale?" I suggested.

"We would offer to purchase the secret of it's creation from him." Ironwood replied immediately.

"Okay well... what if only he could make it? Because of uh, his semblance I guess?" I said and was surprised when Qrow and James exchanged pointed looks.

"We would still need to protect him, or at the very least, make sure his products weren't going to end up in the wrong hands." Ironwood said coolly, to which I could only snort.

"I wouldn't worry much about _that_. The stuff in my shield and what Nora, Ren, and Pyrrha carry around is pretty much all of it right now." I explained, only to be brought up short when the pair of older men in front of me levied strange looks at me.

"Your whole team carries this stuff?" Qrow asked slowly.

"Well duh. Who else would I make it for?" I shot back like that was the dumbest question he could have possibly asked.

"...So... _you_ are the one who makes it? How?" Ironwood asked plaintively.

"Uh -" I started then looked at Qrow who shrugged at me as if to say 'should have kept your mouth shut kid'.

"'Weird shit' mostly." I finally answered after a second of consideration, wiggling my fingers at the General like I was a wizard in a bad drama about to cast a spell.

"...would you be interested in a job?" He asked me weakly, suddenly realizing _why_ I had been asking all those questions.

"Let it go Jim. That's what you get for kidnapping him." Qrow joked, which caused another few minutes of arguing between the two.

"Right. So... anyway. I can make you some Fortified Dust later if you want but right now I'd really like to get my stuff and go home. I miss my team." I tried. It occurred to me that I could only really benefit from the local soldiers switching to my own Dust blend. After all, I could detonate the stuff with just a thought and some Prana. That was kind of what it was made for. As far as I was concerned the stuff was basically harmless as long as I was the one it was pointed at. Which meant that as long as I was careful, I could pry a favor or two out of Ironwood for it.

Like say, help with the Grail War.

 _'You're learning.'_ Archer praised me as I explained my reasoning to him.

 _'Well, you have to admit, most Masters are pretty susceptible to such timeless classics as 'bomb the building they're in' '_ I joked. I could feel Archer's tacit agreement to the statement through our link, even if his only verbal response was to mutter something about a guy name Kiritsugu.

Twenty minutes later, ten of which consisted of Qrow and Winter meeting in the hallway outside my cell and getting into an argument that ended with them running off to fight and/or hate fuck each other (I hoped it was just the former for Qrows sake given Ambers sense of smell) I found myself in the Hangar of what turned out to be Ironwoods flagship. The General had been kind enough to give my shield back, and even though a casual structural grasp showed it to be in fine working order, it didn't escape my notice that a fractional amount of Dust was missing from each of the vials. I didn't blame him for it - mostly because I would have done the same thing if given the chance - but I also didn't expect him to be able to replicate the effect. Especially if he didn't have a fully trained Magus on staff which, given his comments to Qrow on the subject, I sincerely doubted he did.

I had been hoping to leave the second I'd gotten my stuff back, but the General had _insisted_ he send someone to protect me. I had tried to point out that having a group of soldiers running around my school might look a little weird to which he had merely smirked and informed me that they had the _perfect_ agent for such a task. The way he looked at me with a mix of pity and vindictiveness when he said that did nothing to assuage my growing anxiety. Mentally, I couldn't help but picture a grown man wearing a school uniform and pretending to be a teenager. The thought was enough to send a shiver racing up my spine, but Archer assured me that I should be a good enough Magus at this point to just hypnotize whoever they sent after me should I decide I wanted them to leave me alone for a bit.

I was drawn from my thoughts on the matter by the sound of the nearby elevator doors sliding open, and a girl wearing a white blouse under a long a green skirt stepping through them. Her hair was the same screaming orange as Nora's but she lacked the freckles I would generally assume to come with that particular feature, and it was cut and curled such that it almost seemed to frame her perfect face. And I say perfect not in a 'the most beautiful girl I had ever met' kind of way (though she was quite pretty) but in an _uncanny valley_ sort of way. Because her face was _literally_ perfect. Perfectly symmetrical, perfectly smooth, perfectly unblemished. It was so disconcerting that I ignored pretty much everything else about her once I stopped to examine it.

That is, until I realized that she was so close to me our foreheads were touching, and her bright green eyes were staring into mine with concern.

"Holy-!" I yelped, leaping back from her and stumbling into the leg of the Bullhead I was to ride back to beacon.

"His pulse and temperature are normal, but he remains unresponsive sir." The girl said, her voice sounding less like a soldiers and more like a soldiers daughter mimicking their tone cutely.

"I'm sure he's fine Penny." Ironwood said with a chuckle. Literally the first sign I had found that the man could even _experience_ joy. Note to self, keep Ironwood and Goodwitch as far away from each other as possible. The world can't handle that level of strictness.

"As I was saying Jaune, this is Penny Polendina. She'll be your bodyguard for as long as we remain in Vale." Ironwood said, his voice returning to it's typical stern drawl.

"I- uh- wuh?" I said, standing up to stare dumbfounded at the bubbly looking teenager who couldn't be much older than I was.

"Reporting for duty sir!" She answered me chipperly.

"Right... right... sorry it's just I wasn't expecting... your face I mean..." I said, still staring at the girl in front of me like she was an alien here to eat my young.

"Is there something wrong with it?" The girl - Penny - said, her face scrunching up in worry.

"No it's just..." I said, glancing back and forth between her and the General.

"He's a teenage boy. He thinks you're pretty. Geeze." Qrow grumbled, stumbling out of the elevator behind her like he had always been there which, I guess he had he was covered in minor cuts and bruises but had the satisfied glow of someone who had just blown off a lot of steam. I just hadn't noticed him because of how... weird... this girl was. It wasn't just that she _looked_ uncanny. She _felt_ uncanny, but in a way that almost felt _familiar_.

"I'm sure that's not the case." Ironwood said, one of his hands landing on my shoulder and squeezing so hard it start to physically hurt.

"Yes! I mean, no! I mean - I'm sure we'll be great friends!" I cried out, not really sure what to say to make Ironwood stop trying to dislocate my shoulder. Whatever I said, it apparently _wasn't_ the magic word, because not only did Ironwood to continue to squeezing, but Penny's eyes grew as round as saucers and she slammed into me like a freight train to scoop me up in a hug nearly as painful as Ironwoods own grip.

"Oh! Truly!? Fa- General! I have made my first friend!" She declared pleasantly, swinging me around like a god damn rag doll. Was this what Qrow felt like with Amber? _All the time_?

Note to self. Make sure not to date anyone who can kick your ass.

Somewhere in Ansel, two women who were presently arguing about the nature of Magecraft, sneezed.

 **-ooo-**

 **I can't say much for the plot this chapter, except in so far as Jaune's innovations with regards to dust start to become relevant, but in general this is sort of a transition chapter. We're going from the whole Mountain Glenn thing to Jaune getting back to Vale and sorting out the aftermath of of the incursion into the city. There will probably be another chapter or so of this type of thing since Jaune is very understandably out of the loop right now, with periodic jumps to whats going on with RWBY and NPR at the Arc residence. Ironwood is kind of hard for me to write as a character because in the canon he's kind of a tool (just like basically everyone in Ozpin's little club) and doesn't really have a whole bunch of development to him. Coupled with the fact that alot of fanfics tend to portray him as borderline evil and I'm going to have kind of a time getting into him the more he shows up. Here he's mostly interested in Jaune because of the Fortified Dust, with everything else just being an excuse to hold him and ask him about it. Qrow's timely intervention on behalf of Ozpin stops that from getting to bad, but at the end of the day I like to think that Ironwood is the type of guy who can keep the 'Greater Good' in mind without it straying into sociopathic chessmaster territory like Ozpin tends to get portrayed.**

 **This chapters a bit short and there are at least three places where I would normally have liked to spend more time filling it out - which is something I absolutely might still do - but overall I'm... okay with it. Winter doesn't get a huge amount of time to do anything here, but she'll end up seeing more screen time the next time Qrow has a POV moment.**

 **You'll all notice Jaune hasn't gotten ahold of a mirror yet. That's another fun moment we'll get slightly later.**

 **Anywho. This chapter brought to you by insomnia and allergies, much** ** _much_** **earlier than I was expecting to do another chapter for Throne of Heroes. Next up is another chapter of You Say Roll, which should show up around this coming Sunday. Oh and hey. This brings the word count on this fic up past 200k. Wild.**

 **Oh and as always**

 _ **Thanks for Reading.**_


	31. Through Unending Strife

"-and then, when we have completed our communal meal we can retire to your domicile and talk about girls!" Penny chirped from across the Bullhead we were both strapped in to. We were on completely opposite sides of the vehicle, and - I guess because this was the military - actually had to fully strap in before the pilot would even take off. But that didn't stop Penny from _feeling_ like she was looming three inches away from me, especially with the way she had more or less just dictated the rest of my day to me like I was a pet.

Er. That might be a bit mean sounding actually. She... _seemed_ like she meant well, in an unhinged kind of way. As a point of fact, if this was any other girl chomping at the bit to spend time with me just because I was her 'friend' I would probably be all for it. The problem was that no matter what I did I just couldn't get around how off putting Penny's perfectness was to me.

"Uh Penny?" I asked tentatively, jumping into the sudden silence in order to avoid giving her time to formulate another three and a half minute rant.

"Yes!" she responded immediately, completely ignoring the half a dozen soldiers strapped in to either side of us, who not only ignored our conversation, but seemed to hover just on the edge of disdain whenever Penny opened her mouth to speak.

"Could you maybe slow down a bit? I'm _really_ tired." I said, straining to keep my voice apologetic and not annoyed.

"Of course! It is only natural that the Hero of Vale be tired after his ordeal! I will ensure that our egress from the ship is unhindered!" The upbeat girl replied, pounding one closed fist against her chest and puffing up with pride. I had to suppress a sigh just looking at her. She was so energetic I thought I would probably have a hard time dealing with her on a good day. In a way, she kind of reminded me of my sisters, back when we were younger. Not only would they drag me too and fro all day long, but when we inevitably got into trouble for something they even managed to convince me that _I_ was the one who wanted to go out.

I had just begun to relax back into my seat after Penny's statement, relieved that I was almost home, when something she had said caught my attention and I shocked back upwards.

"Wait. Hero of what now?" I blurted, just as the Bullhead we were on landed and the surrounding soldiers lurched into action, like the cogs of a machine being suddenly started by the return of it's power source.

"We have arrived! Come friend Jaune, there is no time to waste!" Penny said happily, either completely ignoring or simply not hearing my question.

 _'Uh Archer? What's it like on the ground out there?'_ I asked my Servant nervously, even as the soldier to my right shifted around to unstrap me and yank me to my feet in a single fluid motion. It was just a bit annoying to go from saving the world in one of the most spectacular battles I had ever seen, to being treated like a complete invalid. It reminded me far too much of my time in the Arc family home for me to be completely 'okay' with it.

But I bore with the frustration. I hadn't tried to use my circuits yet but I got the feeling that if I tried all I would get out of it was pain, and physically I definitely wasn't at 100%, so I should probably milk this for all it was worth - at least until I could make it back to Beacon where my team could protect me anyway. Honestly, it wasn't until I had to sleep in a forest with _Amber_ that I realized how unpleasant it was to be so far away from Team JNPR. Back when they had first offered to back me up in the Grail War I had been touched by the gesture, but I hadn't exactly seen much they could actually do.

Now things were different. Now the idea of having to sleep somewhere that lacked the ever cautious Ren, the easily awoken Nora, or the masterful fighter Pyrrha made my skin crawl. Intellectually I knew they'd never stand up against a Servant in a straight fight - but that didn't mean they could last long enough for the cavalry to come. Plus, Pyrrha had Rider.

 _'There are still people swarming around the tunnel we made. They got it closed off pretty quick, but they seem like they're reinforcing the blockage now. Lots of civilians running around asking what happened too. As far as I can tell, only a few people were injured before we managed to stop everything. The city seems weirdly pleased all things considered.'_ Archer answered after a brief moment of consideration and I sent a mental grunt of affirmation in response.

Then the ramp out of the bullhead was descending, and I was back. I took a few steps forward and paused, staring wistfully over the grounds of Beacon, and then down at the patch of grass I had practically thrown myself at the first time I had flown here on a bullhead. But damn did I get motion sick... on...

My head whipped around to stare incredulously at the vehicle behind me. The bullhead I had ridden on from Ironwood's capital ship all the way to the landing pad at Beacon. The bullhead I had ridden without even a _hint_ of motion sickness.

 _'Archer?'_ I asked, pursing my lips and refusing to answer Penny's curious stare when she noticed my discomfort.

 _'What?'_ The servant answered in an annoyed tone.

 _'Does the dream cycle thing, does it... does it make me more like you?'_ I asked tentatively.

 _'No. That's not how it works. The core of who you are is your soul. For you to be magically more like me, your soul itself would have to be undergoing a change. Some memories and bad dreams wont do that.'_ The surly servant said brusquely. It was clear that he was answering me more because I was the only person he could talk to than anything else. Whatever was bothering him was enough that even _Archer's_ usual stoicism was set aside for the moment.

I continued walking through the grounds towards the dorms, pondering what Archer had said. In a way it _did_ sort of make sense that a soul wouldn't be so easy to manipulate. But that seemed directly counter to everything I had experienced to this point. If I assumed Aura was an extension of the soul then, hadn't I been manipulating mine with an almost wanton abandon? I literally set the whole thing on fire at one point even. It was one of the first techniques I had ever learned. I hadn't thought much about it at the time because most people don't consider Aura 'soul' so much as the 'light' of the soul. A byproduct so to speak. I hadn't actually considered it but, maybe it was because I had an Aura that this was happening. After all, it was called 'unlocking' your Aura. It was common knowledge that an unlocked Aura was more visible to the Grimm, and if that was the case why not take it a step further? What if having an unlocked Aura made a persons soul vulnerable, in a way that only a Magus would ever consider?

I realized with some annoyance that there was really only one way to find the answer to that question.

Swiftly coming to a decision, I turned off from the main hallway leading to the first year dorms and began the slightly longer trek towards the second years dormitories.

"Intelligence indicates that your domicile is this way Jaune." Penny offered, pausing to point in the direction I had originally been going with an easy smile on her face.

"I wanted to go talk to some friends first." I answered absentmindedly, waving towards her with one hand to continue without me. Unfortunately, instead of leaving it at that Penny nodded, the motion exaggerated and cartoonish with her perfect face. Then she strode up next to me and stopped, waiting for me to continue onward.

"I am excited to meet your friends. Oh! Do you think they will also be my friends? I would like that!" She chirped, bouncing on the balls of her feet like a child waiting to go to the candy store.

"Uh... no I was... It's kind of a private conversation so..." I said, pointing back the way we had came and hoping Penny would get the point.

"Understood! I shall ensure that no one eavesdrops on us! Does this pertain to the creation of Arcdust? I will have to inform the general if that is the case. The spread of information is very important to chart!" She continued on happily, completely missing my point. Wait- Arcdust? That's actually really cool. I should copyright that. Way better than what I've been- wait no that wasn't the point.

"Penny!" I said sharply, causing the happy girl to draw up short, the smile freezing on her face.

"Yes sir." She said, all emotion draining from her tone. I blinked once at her, confused by the sudden switchover until I remember that she was, in fact, a soldier.

"Sorry, I mean, you don't have to call me sir. I was just trying to get your attention." I said hurriedly, waving my hands in front of myself for emphasis. I ignored the way the Atlesian soldiers uniform they had given me pulled tight as I moved, the cumbersome thing way too small for me to be able to move in it comfortably.

"Oh! I am sorry. I had forgotten that you are my mission objective for a moment, and allowed our friendship to get in the way of doing my duties. It won't happen again!" She declared, her smile returning to life as she puffed up her chest. I chose to ignore the chest puffing bit, because I had other things to do today and I didn't really have the time or energy to deal with any hormonal issues.

"That's... uh, that's fine. Just... the conversation I need to have, I can't even let you hear it. It's not about Fort- Arcdust though." I said, hurrying to explain myself towards the latter of the sentence in response to a mild sense of danger I felt emanating from Penny the minute I implied excluding her. The sensation however, quickly died away the minute she found I wouldn't be discussing her General's precious Arcdust, and she cocked her head to one side as if in thought.

"I understand! However I must insist I be present outside the room at least. I am to be your personal guard after all!" She stated, and the way she said it left no room for compromise. Sure I could probably get away from her if I had to, or just knock her out with some Magecraft - assuming my circuits were up to it. But I really didn't want to have to go that route with the girl. Something about her left me feeling... uneasy. For a second, staring at her I was overtaken by burning red eyes, and snow white hair, before snapping back to reality with a dull headache that definitely hadn't been present before this.

"Yeah. Sure. Great." I said, fully resigned to my fate. For now anyway.

"Splendiferous!" She yelled, clapping happily.

"...That's not actually a word." I protested wryly, returning to my relaxed walk up the halls.

"Our language is an amalgamation of at most seven and at least four proto-languages from nations that existed prior to our own! Technically, _no one_ knows all the words!" She answered with a kind of awe in her voice. I swear, she _looked_ like she was my age, but she _felt_ like a super intelligent five year old.

"O...kay?" I offered, eventually coming to a stop in front of a door with a bronze nameplate on it reading 'CVFY'. There weren't honestly all that many students in Beacon, so knowing Velvet and Coco's names was basically all I needed to figure out what team they were on. Plus, Velvet had been fairly nice to me once she realized I was completely innocent.

With a subtle shake to get myself in the game, I knocked once on the door and waited.

And waited.

Aaaaaand waited.

"Perhaps they are not present?" Penny said after a moment, swiveling back and forth with her hands behind her back like a child waiting for something. I looked sideways at her, pointedly not acknowledging that she had said anything and knocking again. It wasn't so much that I didn't think Penny could be right. It was just that, upon close inspection, the room was warded nine ways from Sunday. I'd have better luck blowing up the terrain underneath it than breaking into it. It was a level of active protection that required a significant power expenditure, such that I couldn't imagine wasting that kind of power on a room I wasn't even in at the time.

I groaned in annoyance a couple of seconds later when I realized that, completely unbidden, I had shifted to thinking about how I would assault Velvet's workshop. I couldn't even blame Archer for this. Probably anyway. My life seemed like it was just one thing after the other nowadays, such that I was pretty sure I was going to be jumping at shadows and planning for city-wide disasters for years to come. Which was silly because Vale wasn't typically a very dangerous or tumultuous place. Chances were pretty good that once this whole Grail War thing got settled everything would... I mean there was still Ozpin's whole shadow war thing, and obviously, someone had been training psycho's like Caster's Master in the art of Magecraft but-

My thoughts were cut short when the door I had been patiently waiting in front of, opened to reveal a disheveled and scowling Coco. She was completely bereft of her usual overindulgence in fashion and looked in fact like she had only just risen from bed in order to answer the door. Her hair was a frazzled mess, and she was wearing a stupidly oversized white t-shirt that fell to her knees. As I scanned her up and down to get a measure of what I was facing (and not at all because, despite being my arch nemesis, she was an incredibly attractive woman) my gaze finally landed squarely on her face, and I froze because several pieces of information clicked in my head all at once.

One, Coco _did not_ like me. I wasn't sure if hate was the correct word given how little we actually knew of each other, but even if that was the case, we were certainly _approaching_ that level of distaste for one another. Two, I currently _couldn't_ use my circuits for anything strenuous. I could maybe manage a solid structural analysis or two before the strain got too much and I'd be shit out of luck. And finally Three, Coco and I were both more or less participants in the Grail War. A winner takes all deathmatch that had so far as I could tell, brought out the literal worst in everyone it affected.

Oh and also Coco looked furious that I had woken her up.

" _You_." She hissed at me venomously, then appeared to open her mouth as if to say something else when a pillow came sailing from within the bowls of the room to slam into her head with much more force than a mere pillow should be capable of producing. Coco's head bent forward slightly at the impact and her furious gaze simmered down into a mere glower when she finally lifted it back up.

"What. Do. You. Want." She bit out sharply through clenched teeth.

"I was hoping to talk to Velvet." I said carefully, trying - and failing - to peer past her into the rest of the room.

"Why?" She replied immediately, stepping slightly forward and using her deceptively small body to muscle me further away from the entrance to the room. It was little things like this that made it hard to _completely_ detest Coco. She seemed annoyingly self-interested a lot of the time, and perfectly willing to resort to violence to solve problems that really didn't require violence to solve, but at the very least she was doing it to protect her friends. Or at least, she seemed to think that was the case.

"I uh." I paused then shifted my gaze towards Penny who had been watching the entire exchange with a curiously unblinking stare. If I paid close enough attention I could tell she was breathing at least but besides that, she was so utterly still that it was uncanny. I preferred the childish fidgeting to whatever _this_ was.

"It's about weird shit." I said eventually, opting to air on the side of caution when it came to Penny and Magecraft. Just because Ironwood knew about it didn't mean that _everyone_ that worked for him did.

"Weird- are you being serious? Do you even know what time it is?" Coco growled at me.

"Uh... one in the afternoon?" I offered lamely.

"Thirteen hundred and two in military time." Penny said graciously from off to the side before falling silent again. Coco, who I was beginning to realize might literally lack the human emotion known as shame, merely shrugged at that.

"Look Arc, I'm tired and she doesn't want to see you. So take your-" She faltered mid sentence when another pillow rocketed out of the bedroom at her head, neatly rebounding off and tumbling back into the bedroom.

"Okay _I_ don't want to see you so- okay, okay!" She started again, but then stopped when a shoe flew through the air directly next to her head.

"Is... is that _Velvet_ throwing stuff at you?" I asked, genuinely confused by the comedy routine I was currently bearing witness too.

"Yes. Look we'll meet somewhere neutral in town tomorrow or something okay?" Coco finally admitted with a defeated tone.

"Where's 'somewhere'? And why doesn't Velvet just come to the door?" I asked somewhat annoyed. This shouldn't be this complicated. I just wanted to ask some questions about the Dream Cycle. That was it. If I had a choice I would pretend Coco didn't even exist, but she and Velvet were the only other Magi I knew with a servant. I was obviously going to ask Pyrrha about Rider too but they hadn't been together as long, and Pyrhha most definitely _was not_ a Magus, so I wanted to cover all my bases.

"She's tired for the same reason _I'm_ tired. Take a hint Arc." Coco said with a roll of her eyes.

"Huh?" was my - in my opinion anyway - very well-articulated response.

"Prana Transfer cherry boy. Also, I don't know what made you think dyeing a single lock of your hair was a good idea but trust me, it's not working." She said, slipping past me to pick up the shoe Velvet had thrown at her and then retreating back to her room without so much as a goodbye. Usually, I would have stuck around yelling at her over that just out of spite, but the slamming of her bedroom door in my face would have made that somewhat awkward.

Also what the hell did she mean about me dyeing my hair?

"She was most rude." Penny noted, breaking the silence in the hallway. I snorted. 'Most Rude' was the kind of title I would expect to be floating over Coco's head in a video game. I don't think I had even one interaction with her that didn't end in one or both of us angry.

"Yeah that's Coco for you. Come on, I'll introduce you to the team." I said, making my way towards the Team JNPR dorm even as a sense of foreboding overtook me.

It was kind of sad actually, that I was getting sort of _used_ to that feeling.

-ooo-

 **POV: Pyrrha**

Strange. This was... strange.

"So then, Rubes here gets this brilliant idea to build _bunk beds_ for the dorm!" Yang laughed boisterously, pounding the kitchen table with one hand.

"I don't think 'brilliant' is the word I would use," Weiss added dryly.

"It worked didn't it?!" Ruby retorted, her cheeks puffing up in a fit of childish pique.

"Hah! Man, I almost kind of miss those days." Rose barked, laughing uproariously at the story as Yang told it. I simply smiled like I did in all my press conferences, doing my utmost not to show any outward sign of discomfort.

 _'Are you sure you can't get help?'_ I asked my Servant.

 _'Unlikely. The minute I manifest your Aura will begin to drain to supply me with power. It will be quite noticeable._ ' She replied, causing me to grind my teeth together imperceptibly.

Shortly after I had explained the details of Jaune's so-called 'Magecraft' to everyone, his mother had waltzed into the room with a pleasant smile on her face, snapped her fingers once and then... well I actually couldn't remember what happened after that. One moment I had been trying to prove magic was real, the next all eight of us had been scattered across the home having seemingly mundane conversations with one or more of Jaune's family members. That on its own wasn't so strange that it would cause me undue stress, but the way everyone from Team RWBY was reacting to the situation _was_. They were acting as though nothing had happened. It was as though they couldn't even remember why we were here. They simply chatted with the Arc family. I noted, however, that not once did the topic of _leaving_ ever come up.

At first, I had thought that only I had managed to escape whatever had happened to my friends, but then I noticed Ren and Nora looking at each other strangely, each of them gently fingering the areas where they _should_ have been wounded. I had known then that, whatever had been done to Ruby and the rest, we three had somehow managed to avoid. Naturally I could take a guess as to why that might be the case, but I didn't have the luxury of thinking overmuch about it right now.

"Hey what about you? I'm sure Jaune's been a huge drag." Rose drawled, turning her gaze on me with an easy smile that I almost believed was real. 'Almost' because I had seen Rose in her natural environment, her eyes wide with battle lust, and her pupils dilated like a cat about to pounce. This genial version of her that I was talking to was far from convincing.

"Oh no, Jaune has been an exceptional _team leader_." I replied quickly, making sure to keep my smile firmly fixed in place, and my ire at her subtle jab at Jaune hidden.

"Seriously? They mad that runt your team _leader_? What did Ozpin forget his coffee that morning or something?" Rose drawled, her hands coming up in faux shock for a second before coming back down to wrap around the mug of coffee sitting in front of her.

"Yeah! He's like, super strong!" Ruby piped up happily.

"Oh? He was pretty scrawny last time I saw him." Rose opined, her eyebrow quirking in challenge. The whole conversation had gone like this. No matter which member of Jaune's family passed through the kitchen to temporarily join the conversation, no matter what we were talking about, the topic always rolled back around to Jaune. Ren, Nora and I were doing our best to be... less than forthcoming, but Team RWBY was completely unaware of the situation they were in, and so were much more open about most things.

"Yeah! When I first met him he did this thing with red dust and-" Ruby gushed until Ren cut in, his face set in his usual blank expression.

"He _does_ have a tendency to turn any situation on its head." He said blandly. Under normal circumstances, I'm sure Ruby would have gotten offended by the interruption. From Ren though it was less an interruption and more of a show of support, given how polite the boy was most of the time.

Rose narrowed her eyes at Ren for a second and looked to be about to say something in response to his sudden assertion - probably something derisive about Jaune given her obvious disdain for him - but at that moment her mother Juniper strode into the room. Unlike the outfit she had been wearing when we had first arrived - a flashy Huntsmen outfit that was perhaps just a bit too tight in the chest and hips - she was presently dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a white blouse with minimal adornment.

"Oh good you're all here. I was just about to start dinner but before that I was hoping you could all help me with something." She said pleasantly, setting her scroll down leaning against a fruit bowl in the middle of the table.

"What's up ?" Yang said, shooting up from her seat to stand next to the older woman.

"Well a little birdy told me that Ozpin should be able to put me in contact with Jaune, so if we're lucky he should be home fairly soon." She answered, and even though her pleasant housewife act remained firmly in place(I believe Yang had referred to her at one point as a milf, whatever that was), her eyes sharpened appreciably for just a second before returning to normal.

"How rude of him to invite us to his home and then not even be here when we arrive." groused Weiss, unknowingly regurgitating the Arc families fabricated reason for our presence.

"Oh that boy has always been forgetful. But he _is_ an excellent cook _ladies_ ~" Juniper said in a singsong voice, shooting a sidelong glance at the other occupants of the room. I shifted uncomfortably when Weiss' face turned slightly red, and pointedly ignored the wretching noises Rose was making. Weiss was clearly under some form of mind control. There was no other explanation for such a plain reaction.

"Ah, so you'll be calling Professor Ozpin then?" I asked quickly, trying to change the topic.

"I thought a video call might be nice, you know so he can check up on all of you while you're away from the school." She said with a motherly voice. Translation; remind him you have hostages. For reasons I still didn't fully grasp, Juniper seemed to have an almost adversarial relationship with Ozpin. It didn't seem quite at the point where they actively sought each other harm, but she seemed to take great offense to the idea that he had taught Jaune much of anything.

Before much of anything else could be said, Juniper had already flicked through several menus on her scroll, initiating the call. It didn't even get through the first ring before it was picked up, the screen flashing to an image of a beleaguered looking Ozpin sat behind his desk with his trademark mug of coffee resting next to his hand.

"Ah, Juniper. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He said quickly upon confirming the situation on our end of the screen. His eyes darted across us, clearly confirming our condition in a single pass. When our gazes crossed I did my best to alert him to Juniper's obvious tampering with Team RWBY, but there was really only so much I could do by spasmodically moving my eyes back and forth between the two. I'd like to think the sudden gleam in his eyes as Juniper answered was confirmation that he had taken my point - but that could have just been the light glinting off of his glasses.

"Oh, you know. I heard that Jaune was in Vale and thought I would remind you that he has parental permission to miss some school. Speaking of. Is he available?" Juniper said with a chuckle, really playing up the nosy parent thing. It was actually kind of creepy seeing her fake such seriousness. When we had been fighting her children she had seemed almost completely apathetic to the goings-on. She had treated it more like a joke than an actual threat. But here she was, acting like a concerned parent.

"Ah, yes. He should have just returned to his rooms. I believe he was expecting his Team to be present..." Ozpin said, trailing off and sending a pointed look my way.

"Yes well, I'm afraid he appears to have made plans to come home with them and then forgotten. I'm sure we can clear this all up in a jiffy. If you'll just put him on?"

"I'm afraid he's quite tired at the moment, perhaps it could wait until-" Ozpin tried, clearly not expecting to finish the sentence since he stopped speaking the second he noted Juniper opening her mouth.

"Every day wasted by my son is a day of school his friends will be missing Headmaster. Education is precious after all." Juniper pointed out sweetly. So sweetly it made my stomach turn just hearing it. There was a pregnant silence, which was broken when Ozpin exhaled sharply, nodding once.

"Just one moment, I'll call him up."

-ooo-

 _'What the fuck Archer!?'_ I called across my mental link to the Servant. Pyrrha, Ren, and Nora hadn't been in when I had gotten back, but that wasn't all that unusual for this time of day. As first years we had significantly less of our schedule allocated for personal training or missions. Pretty much all of our day was dictated to us by the school. That would change as we grew older, with more and more of our time being handed over to us to be used at our own discretion, but for now, it would be pretty reasonable to assume my Team was in class at one in the afternoon.

What _had_ been in my room when I returned, was a perfectly normal mirror. The one that had always been sitting on our bathroom wall and that had never before this given me even a single ounce of trouble. Which was why it was so weird that looking into it right now while Penny looked curiously around my bedroom, I was looking into it and seeing nothing _but_ trouble.

 _'What?_ ' Archer replied instantly, his tone shifting from annoyed to alert in a heartbeat.

 _'Why the hell is my hair turning white? And why is my skinning turning brown in splotches all the way up and down my left side?!'_ I screamed at the Servant of the Bow, scrubbing futilely at my face and neck with a sponge that was proving to be ultimately ineffectual.

 _'Hang on. I'm coming._ ' He answered, his tone more curious than anything else all of a sudden. Within mere moments Archer had appeared, phasing through the wall and directly into the bathroom like the magical ghost he was. He stared at me for a moment, shock never once making its way onto his feature, before nodding as if in understanding.

 _'Well!?'_ I said in annoyance.

 _'Well what?'_ He answered smugly.

 _'Archer.'_ I mentally growled, fully realizing that this was his subtle way of getting back at me for not immediately explaining what I had done at the end of our fight with Caster.

 _'It's basically just magical nerve damage._ ' He said with a shrug.

 _"_ Magical _what!?"_ I screeched, forgetting for a moment that I wasn't alone and having to quickly wave away Penny's sudden concern when she poked her head into the bathroom at my outburst.

 _'It's what happens when you overuse your circuits but manage to avoid just having a seizure and dying.'_ Archer explained without even a hint of concern in his voice. I understood that Archer had sort of a non standard relationship with death and pain as concepts, but being told that the alternative to my current state was death or a massive seizure _didn't_ actually improve my mood.

 _'And?'_ I said angrily.

 _'You know how usually your circuits hurt when you use them? That's usually how people gauge whether or not it's time to stop using Magecraft. You don't always have time to use Structural Analysis on yourself in the heat of battle.'_ He supplied patiently, as though speaking to a child.

 _'_ _ **And?**_ _'_ I repeated.

 _'And well... some of yours won't hurt anymore. You burned out the nerves that would transmit that to your brain when we held the Unlimited Blade Works together for so long.'_ He finished.

I allowed that to percolate through my mind for a second, turning back to the mirror and really giving myself another look. A shock of my hair on the left side had turned an almost silvery white, and my skin, starting near my jawline, was a patchwork mishmash of deep tan and my usual creamy white. If I squinted I could almost say that I looked sort of burnt in those areas. Glancing back at Archer, who was tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for me to get over myself, I noted a pretty easy resemblence in his own tanned flesh and hair.

Not for the first time I was reminded of the kind of single minded person Archer was in life. After all, it made perfect sense for him to intentionally push himself so hard as the char all his nerve endings. Unlike other Magi, he pretty much cast structural grasp on himself and everything around him on pure instinct. There were no negatives to the process for him. Which _wasn't_ true for me, since I had nowhere near that level of mastery in the spell.

 _'Can it be fixed?'_ I said tiredly, my anger deflating when I realized I couldn't really yell at Archer for this when it was _my_ decision to do it. He had even warned me against it at the time come to think of it. Not that the taciturn jerk would ever admit to something as mundane as concern for me being his motivation.

 _'No. But you haven't really progressed that far so if you're careful it shouldn't be a problem.'_ Archer replied easily, breezing past me to sit on the edge of my bathtub. The motion struck me as odd, and for a moment I just stared at him in confusion trying to puzzle out what was wrong with the image before me. Then it clicked. I had never seen Archer sit before. Or sleep. Or do anything even vaguely reminiscent of 'rest'. He was always on alert, watching out for threats and scouting out potential danger. Even when we were having a conversation he seemed constantly poised on the edge of violence, leaning against a wall or standing loosely, only a a second away from tracing a weapon to wield.

With shocking clarity I realized that Archer hadn't _slept_ since I had summoned him.

 _'I don't know.'_ I said succinctly, deciding to go with honesty.

 _'You don't... Jaune. Allow me to make myself perfectly clear. That woman has suffered more in her lifetime than any one person should ever have to. If I could, I wouldn't let anyone summon her every again, and I_ _ **especially**_ _don't appreciate the idea that dragged her soul to this shit hole world of yours on a_ _ **whim**_ _.'_ Archer said, his eyes turning cold and menacing.

 _'No I mean, I guess... I think I sort of... I dunno, Traced her? I was barely even conscious at the end of that fight Archer. The only thing I could think of was the fact that we were going to lose and you aren't qualified to wield Excalibur.'_ I retorted, flinching slightly at Archers words but then doing my best to explain myself without being an ass about it. I could... sort of... understand his concerns. I didn't get to see all that much of then Arturia in Shirou Emiya's memories, but from what I _had_ grasped her life had been anything but pleasant. And her time spent as the Saber of Archers own war had been equally shitty - something that I knew Archer thought was mostly his own fault. More so than that, I was coming to find that not all of Archer's memories were well... consistent. As the Dream Cycle had progressed I had found myself seeing his Grail War from a dozen different angles, seeing the same situation play out in different ways over and over again. I had once joked that Shirou had slept with his classmate Rin, but I was coming to realize that there was a reality where that red headed moron slept with nearly everyone.

The most worrying thing of all though, was that I was pretty sure even _Archer_ didn't know which of those timelines had spawned him.

 _'You can't Trace a soul you nitwit. You've never even_ _ **met**_ _Saber.'_ Archer shot back pointedly.

 _'Yeah but_ _ **you**_ _have. Didn't you trace a whole bunch of crap by meeting that Waver guy and seeing his memories? Same thing. Besides, you have all the information neccesary to trace a person in your swords - you just can't because your a sword headed idiot.'_ I answered then paused, realizing that Archer had never actually explained his nature as a Sword Incarnation to me before. It was yet another piece of information I was quoting from his own memories.

 _'So it was a copy of her? Not the actual Saber?'_ Archer asked, clearly seeking clarification. There was a sort of... hope... in his eyes that I felt uncomfortable seeing there. Not just because positive emotions were so rare for the taciturn older man, but because what I had to say next would almost certainly destroy that fledgling hope.

 _'No, I think it's more like, I made a container for her that naturally drew her soul from wherever it was resting to fill it. When the container fell apart she probably went back to where she had come from.'_ I said slowly, watching for Archers reaction.

It was... not what I expected.

 _'...Can you...does it only work with...'_ Archer said hesitantly, clearly not wanting to fully spit out what he had in mind - which was weird because I was expecting a lot more _incandescent rage_ than this.

 _'I uh, don't think I could do it again at all. I barely remember how I did it in the first place. I was going to look into figuring it out as soon as I caught up on everything else I had to research. My Origin and Element, getting you a body, figuring out how to deal with the grail...'_ I said, trailing off when Archer gave me a mildly disturbed look.

 _'What?'_ I asked, still feeling like he could explode at me at any moment.

 _'No it's just... materializing a spirit is a True Magic. You shouldn't be able to do anything even vaguely approximating it without outside assistance.'_ Archer explained cautiously.

 _'...Oh.'_ was my only response to that little nugget of wisdom. I mean, I wasn't going to _stop_ researching the idea, but it certainly seemed more daunting now that I understood the scope of the problem.

Then I really looked at Archer. Not just at the way he looked, edgy red coat and combat boots aside. But the way he was looking _at_ me. I remembered every death that he had experienced during his grail war as Shirou Emiya. Every deception he had suffered, from learning that Sakura was the black grail to finding out that the grail itself was destined to never work. And I knew that rather than asking me to help him return to life, what he really wanted to ask me about was-

"Jaune. I am knocking because I have determined that you are neither showering nor using the toilet. Please pull your pants up - the Headmaster has expressed his interest in seeing you." Penny chirped with an air of complete nonchalance from the other side of the door.

Wait. If she didn't think I was showering or taking a crap then why would my pants-

"Penny! I was not! I mean! Gah!" I screeched, hurriedly tearing the door open and rushing out to the orange haired girl, who was standing a respectful step away from the door. I hurriedly placed my hands on her shoulders and told her with utmost confidence;

"I. Was not. Doing that."

In response Penny merely tilted her head to one side, gazing deeply into my eyes for a second before turning her head fractionally to looking at where my hands were on her shoulders. For a second - just one solid, blissful second - I thought I had made my point. And then her nose wrinkled up and she stepped slightly away from me, shaking my hands off of her.

"Ah, Jaune, as your guard I really must recommend washing your hands afterwards. Oh! Unless this is a male bonding event! Do men often-" She said sternly before flipping back to the over excited tone she had affected when I had first met her.

"No!" I yelped jumping away from her.

"Look lets just... go see Ozpin okay?" I said, basically giving up on ever convincing Penny that I was a normal, well adjusted person.

"Yessir!~" She said, once more affecting the air of a little girl miming a soldier and then pivoting to hold the door of my room open for me.

I quickly grabbed my scroll from where it sat atop my desk before leaving, determined to at least partially enjoy my time back in Beacon. Then I stepped out the door and we began the short walk to the elevator leading to Ozpins office.

In hindsight, I probably should have checked the news _first_. The first thing that greeted me upon connecting to the CCT network wasn't a tabloid piece of some celebrity or other. It wasn't news on the latest developments from the Schnee Dust company. It wasn't even about the White Fang and their various activities - activities that had become curiously benevolent as of late. No, the very first thing to greet me was a picture of me. Half dead on my feet. Surrounded by dead Grimm.

"Lone Beacon Student Stops Grimm Incursion" I read aloud, my eye twitching in abject horror at the headline.

"Jaune Arc, The Unstoppable Boy, Hero of Val- Who wrote this?! WHY did they write it?!" I yelled in shock, turning to wave my scroll ineffectually at Penny.

"I believe the Council of Vale commissioned the piece. It is most flattering. Do you think I can join you on your next Adventure? Heroes go on Adventures right?" She answered me before launching into a happy string of sentences that I'm sure meant something but that completely flew over my head as the full reality of her statement hit me. Also she was now holding my arm and shaking me like a bottle of cola - which certainly didn't help my ability to focus.

"WHY!?" I repeated in outrage. Weren't Magi supposed to be super secretive?! Wasn't I trying to avoid undue attention because of the Grail War!?

 _'It was probably a puff piece. The Grimm are attracted to negative emotions right? So a populace worried about a Grimm attack is no good. But if the populace thinks that even a single under trained student can defend them like this then what's there to worry about?'_ Archer asked rhetorically.

"It is because you saved everybody of course! I am sure the Council merely wished for everyone to know of your exploits. You _are_ a Hero after all." Penny chimed in, more or less confirming Archer's words.

"But- I- They-" I sputtered incoherently. Oh god. There was no way my Mom was going to miss this. She _always_ kept up to date on the news. If I was _really_ lucky then Bianca hadn't reached the city yet and I could hide somewhere. Maybe the Emerald Forest or something. And what was with the name!? The Unstoppable Boy?! Would they still be calling me that when I was thirty? It was so stupid I could barely stand it. There were dozens of people more deserving of that kind of title than me - many of them even in my own class.

Thoughts of being dragged kicking and screaming back home by my irate Magus family filled my head the entire rest of the way up to Ozpin's office. When we finally did arrive, it was to find a surly looking Ozpin tapping with one finger on his desk in an impatient gesture I had never seen before from the man.

"Ah Jaune. So good of you to come. There is someone on the line who would like to speak to you." He said with a false cheer that I could feel from across the room. Seemingly sensing the tension rolling off the two of us, Penny took up position by the elevator, shifting to a parade rest like any good soldier on guard duty should. Meanwhile I - unaware of what was wrong - stupidly crossed the distance to take a seat in front of Ozpin's desk - and immediately regretted it.

As soon as I had seated myself, Ozpin flicked a switch somewhere on his desk that projected a medium sized video call in the air between us. That in and of itself wasn't that strange - it was a newer technology but it wasn't completely unheard of. I could do it pretty easily with my own magecraft if I had to for instance. No, what was so disturbing about the call was _who_ was in it.

I could practically feel myself freezing in place as my eyes darted across the image before me, seeing the members of Team RWBY and the rest of my own Team JNPR arrayed in a very familiar kitchen. And sitting pleasantly and smiling the smile she always wore shortly before I got punished for something, was my mother.

"Hello dear." She said in a more motherly tone than I had ever actually heard from her in my life. I could feel sweat dripping down the small of my back as my mind kicked into overdrive to try and figure out what the _fuck_ was going on right now. My mother spent the entire time just staring at me expectantly. My eyes did another quick sweep of my friends and noted that of them, only Pyrrha, Ren and Nora seemed distressed much at all. Which made sense. I had made them all amulets on the off chance someone tried to mess with their heads that I was _hoping_ worked.

Unfortunately, the fact that they were very obviously put out by something, while the four members of Team RWBY seemed almost completely blissed out was telling in and of itself.

My friends were being held hostage.

Taking a deep breath to calm myself I firmed my resolve and turned my gaze back towards my mother. I plastered a false smile on my face and - containing the ember of rage that was beginning to spark to life in my gut - said,just like I always did when I knew I'd gotten caught doing something I wasn't supposed to;

"Hey Mom. Sup?"

 **-ooo-**

 **I swear, I was going to sprint a bunch of chapters of this since I'm on vacation but as it turns out I have poor impulse control and really love the new Fire Emblem game. I'm committed to writing more with the back half of my vacation so expect more of this sometime soon. In other news, someone sent my a recolor of Archer For when he's possessing Jaune, and despite this not actually really being what it looks like (theres really no visual difference at all actually) I still wanted to share it with you all - because it's still really cool. I'll leave the link to it at the bottom of the chapter - is weird about links to things so you have to delete the spaces in the link manually.**

 **In other news. I sort of had a really hard time deciding what Jaune's natural end point would be for his Magecraft, and thanks to some friends in a discord group I recently joined I *think* have it down pat. If you ever read this chapter - Thanks CrazyLich. Take a nap my dude.**

 **Mm. I think that's just about it for me. Not alot of questions in the reviews to answer just so. So as always;**

 **Thanks for reading.**

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	32. And Then There Were Seven

**POV:Jaune**

There was a tension filled silence between us for a second, my mother and I. Her eyes flicked over me, back and forth, like she was trying to decide what she wanted to comment on first. Was it my much improved physique? My discolored skin? My seemingly dyed shock of white hair? If I knew my mother much at all, she was taking in all of these things and trying to decide exactly _how_ she was going to point them out rather than whether or not to do so. I debated saying something else, just to get the conversation moving - but opted against it. The silence probably would have stretched out longer - with Ozpin patiently waiting for us to get this over with so I would get out of his office, and Penny blissfully unaware of how bad this situation was, but someone completely different responded to my greeting - someone I had initially overlooked in my shock at seeing my friends again.

"You look like shit." Rose said flatly, pushing to the front of the group and elbowing Pyrrha out of the way with just a bit too much force, causing her Aura to flicker momentarily to resist the strike.

"You get into a fight with a dog or something equally threatening?" She continued teasingly, waving her hand over her own face in the spots where my discolored skin was. It said a lot about my home life and relationship with my sisters that Rose bluntly insulting me

actually helped calm me down instead of bothering me overmuch. I knew that as much as she was well... not the _nicest_ person, she was at the very least fiercely protective of her family. The problem was, where most of the rest of my sisters stuck to the 'don't teach Jaune anything' rule because my mother _told_ them to, Rose did so because she had genuinely convinced herself that I was a helpless moron.

"I'm not too worried about it. Aura and all that. How's Dad?" I replied, deflecting from the obvious jab at my discolored skin and hair. I did my best not to spend too much time looking at my friends to either side of the video call. My mom might know that RWBY and NPR were my friends - but that didn't mean I had to show her how strongly I felt about them. More importantly than that, Juniper Arc was a _Magus_. That meant that if I wanted to get _anything_ done I was going to have to deal with her in a way she would understand - that being, like a Magus. And Magi could very easily sacrifice their friends for personal gain or safety.

Not that anything even remotely like that was in the cards for me, but _she_ didn't have to know that.

"Sweetheart I love you, you know that, but I really don't think you're qualified to diagnose yourself in this case." My mother chimed in, shooting a warning look at Rose that had her rolling her eyes and leaning away from the screen, still in view but no longer the dominant figure in sight.

I was so not cut out for this double talk thing. My mom wasn't stupid - she had to have seen the news report about me, and she definitely knew I had been qualified enough to attend Beacon as a huntsman - so she had to have at least _guessed_ that I was practicing Magecraft. That being the case, I actually didn't know how to respond to that statement of hers. At face value, it was a perfectly reasonable concern for a parent to have, the type of thing she would be justified in calling me home over. But the concerned looks my friends were sending me through the screen were a constant reminder that something more was going on.

Actually. Even if my mom thought I had been toying with Magecraft, would she really believe how far I had actually come? I was best known to my other family members as the type of person who would pick up a hobby and then forget about it within a couple of months. I had never attained any reasonable skill level in _anything_ that wasn't basic household chores. Given that I had only been learning how to be a Huntsman or a Magus for a handful of months, it would be pretty reasonable for her to assume I was the same old half baked teen I was when I lived at home. I could use that... right?

"Ah. I guess yeah." I chuckled wryly, hunching in on myself and affecting just about the weakest and most submissive looking posture I could manage. It wasn't hard - I had gotten pretty used to it over the course of a lifetime of helplessness. Seeing the familiar posture must have been heartening for my mom because her expression softened notably before she continued speaking.

"So~ When were you planning on telling me about all these pretty ladies you've been living with?" She said, changing topics and gesturing behind her towards all my friends.

"Oh, you know. Eventually." I said, not having to fake the incandescent blush on my face as I hunched further in on myself in embarrassment. I wish Mom would just pick between menacing Magus and embarrassing parent. It was unfair that she could just bounce back and forth between the two so easily.

"Oh? Is 'eventually' a new way of saying 'right after I let my parents know I changed my scroll number?' because your father found _yours_ in a ditch." She said, arching an eyebrow at me disapprovingly. I winced.

"Well you know I sort of _did_ escape from the hospital-" I started weakly.

"Stealing a handful of supplies yes I know. We were charged for those by the way." She cut in, and I could see right off that this probably wasn't a topic I wanted to continue on. A quick glance to either side of my mom to check on my friends caused me to grit my teeth in annoyance. The second we had started talking about my escape from Ansel their eyes had glazed over and they had gone curiously still. Sitting across the desk from me I could see Ozpin's jaw tighten slightly at the shift. He probably wasn't any happier about having seven of his students held hostage than I was.

"I was going to pay for them eventually!" I retorted with a whine, trying to keep a hold on the conversation without flying into a rage. There was nothing anger would get me right now. Not at this distance anyway.

Unbidden the exact distance Archer could fire Caladbolg II from accurately came to mind and I shook my head slightly to shake the thought of just nuking my home free. Yeah my mom and dad were probably sociopathic Magi who had fought in the previous Grail War, and yeah there were even odds that my dad himself was a Servant of some kind, but that didn't mean I wanted to _kill_ them.

"Good. So when can I expect you back? Your friends are expecting you. It was very rude of you to invite them and then forget. Plus I actually promised the hospital director that you would apologize to him in person." My mother said in a victorious tone that seemed to be trying to close the conversation off as soon as possible.

I could only really blink at her in surprise. When did I even agree to come back? Did she just expect me to crawl back home because she told me to? I mean, I was definitely going to find my way there but I was damned if I was going to just roll over and die like she seemed to think I would.

"Like f-" I was about to retort, but then stopped before I could get the curse out. Once more I had to remind myself that appearing weak and useless was going to be the way to go here - at least until I could get my friends free of my families clutches.

"I mean. I uh. I'd like a day or two?" I said weakly.

"Do you need your father or sister to come to get you?" My mom asked, her tone of voice shifting back to concerned - likely because much like everyone else I had grown up with, she presumed I wasn't capable of buying a damn train ticket by myself.

"No, I'm good. I just wanted to say goodbye to some people." I said, and turned a wan smile on her. It was the smile I used whenever my mom got what she wanted and I _didn't_. It was the smile I used the first time someone told me I couldn't be a Huntsman. It was a smile that my mother would have no doubt recognized, as a sign of defeat.

"Alright dear. Two days okay? I love you." She replied, making a loud kissing noise towards the screen.

"...Love you, Mom." I whispered, expression turning downcast. My mother nodded once and then leaned forward - disconnecting the call. The second she did I tilted my head upwards and leveled a fiery gaze on Ozpin.

"Can I borrow-" I said hopefully, meaning to borrow Qrow and by extension, Amber for my rescue mission. My parents may think I was a pushover, but they had only to ask Bianca to find out how stubborn I could be if I _really_ didn't want to do something.

"No." Ozpin replied in a restrained drawl. Instantaneously shattering my daydreams of riding roughshod over my whole family backed by the force of nature that was Amber.

"Wha- but they're your students! _I'm_ your student!" I exclaimed.

"There are circumstances at work beyond your familial squabbles Jaune. Agreements at play that, unfortunately, would result in a significant loss of life should they be broken." The Headmaster said tiredly, rising from his seat to stand over his desk.

"...seriously with the mysterious bullshit again?" I asked flatly, almost not realizing how rude that must sound until after I had said it.

"I see your time with Qrow has already tainted you." Ozpin grumbled, quirking an eyebrow at me.

"I mean if that's how he talks to you then maybe, just _maybe_ he's onto something." I shot back, getting angry now. Ozpin merely stared at me for several more seconds before sighing and walking around to the side of his desk, sitting against it leisurely in a gesture that put him closer to me and further from his assigned position as the Headmaster of Beacon Academy.

"Jaune, one of the reasons I cannot be so forthcoming with you is simply the fact that I do not know where you stand. Previously, I had told you that only three people on this world are capable of training others in the art of Magecraft. I am one, your mother is another, and the third is... well suffice to say I have my hands full with _one_ rogue Wizard. I have no interest in making an enemy of a family such as yours while that enmity exists." He explained, and every word he spoke made him sound more tired, more _old_ than even his white hair would imply.

And that was all fine and good but there was a bit of terminology in there that I _really_ didn't like.

"You're fighting a _Wizard!?"_ I barked urgently before realizing Penny was still in the room and quickly turning around to see her reaction to the statement.

"Fear not friend Jaune, I have been briefed on Weird Shit!" She said chipperly, waving at me from the elevator.

"You actually call it that?" I asked incredulously.

"It was decided by the General that including the word 'Magic' in any given report was likely to see him removed from his position! He tried many other ways to avoid using the word, but the constant changes made his reports confusing, and difficult to read! And so, 'Weird Shit' was adopted into the common language of the Atlesian Military!" She buzzed, apparently far too pleased with this small factoid to contain the girlish giggling fit that shook her body as she spoke.

"Oh well...no wait, that's not the point. A freaking _Wizard_ Ozpin?" I repeated, turning back to the Headmaster. He stared at me for a second, blinking languidly once as though unsure of how to answer the question before shrugging.

"I don't really use the term in the same way that your family appears to." He said, but I couldn't help but notice the way his eyes slid away from my own as he spoke. It was frustrating but, as much as I really _wanted_ to press him on this, I had my own problems to handle, and if Ozpin was going to refuse to help me then I could be damned sure that an enemy Wizard wasn't likely to become one of them. I felt my expression turn carefully neutral and my stance shift back from feigned weakness to one more befitting of a Magus in the Holy Grail War. I liked Qrow, but the next time Ozpin asked _me_ for help? I probably wasn't going to agree.

Still, I persisted. Whatever agreement Ozpin was alluding to couldn't be _that_ strict. He had sent me on a mission with Qrow with what was as close to glee as the old man ever really got.

"Ozpin come _on!_ You _owe_ me! I mean, if you weren't supposed to get involved with me then why did you send me with Qrow in the first place?" I said, pointing an accusing finger at him. In response, he merely shrugged.

"At the time, you had made it abundantly clear that you had chosen to break ranks with the rest of your family. Your immense fear of your Mother locating you seemed evidence enough of that. Had I known then the lengths your Mother would go to in order to have you returned I may have reconsidered my position. Naturally, had you fully committed to my cause I might reconsider, but as it stands it would be unwise for me to jeopardize my present relationship with Juniper by doing so." Ozpin explained, managing to inject at least _some_ remorse into his tone - even as he closed out his statement with another attempt to recruit me entirely to his cause.

Well fine then. I didn't have time for politicking. He wasn't going to help me, and that meant I didn't have time for him.

"Fine. Did you need me for anything else Headmaster?" I said perfunctorily, my back straight and my lips pressed together to form a tight line that would broadcast my displeasure far better than a tantrum probably would. Ozpin opened his mouth as if to say something, likely a request for a report as to what had happened to me at Mountain Glenn - but then his eyes darted across my face and he paused. I could actually see the little wheels in his head turning, his mind working to decide how best to handle me at present so that I might potentially be useful in the future. Then he opened his mouth to speak again, this time with a much more clipped tone than he had been using previously.

"No , that will be all." He said quickly, moving to return to his highbacked chair, a subtle reminder that Beacon was _his_ seat of power. The shift from a friendly use of my first name to the authoritative use of my last didn't escape my notice either.

"Come on Penny." I said coldly as I rose to leave. Briefly, I wondered when it was that I became capable of responding to adversity so coldly. As recently as a few months ago I would have been flailing in panic at this point. Now there was just this dull ache in my temples as I did my utmost to plan my next steps.

"Yessir!" Penny said with a salute before falling into step behind me. I quickly pressed the button to call the elevator - which was still ready and waiting to be used - and stepped in, waiting a moment for Penny to step in after me before hitting the button to go down. As I did so I made sure to maintain eye contact with Ozpin, right up until the doors of the elevator closed. He wasn't my enemy, and I definitely didn't hate him, but today I had definitely learned that his assistance and support _weren't_ unconditional. If I wanted to go to school here for another three years, that was something I was going to have to keep firmly in mind.

When finally the elevator made it back to the ground floor, I stepped out with a purpose. Just this one more stupid thing, and then I could go back to my normal daily life. Just one more. Just one -

 _'Just... one... more...' I gasped as I stretched my hand forward, ignoring the pain of the fire surrounding me, focused solely on the child situated in a corner of the burning building._

My breath hitched and I nearly tripped when the memory came. It had happened before, and it would again, but this time was unique. Because this wasn't a memory from 'Shirou Emiya'.

No, this memory, belonged to _Archer_.

-ooo-

 _It was a soul without a body._

 _Neither dead, nor alive. It simply... existed. There were memories ofcourse - memories, alongside ones Origin, were the core of what made ones soul unique. But in this disembodied state the soul was, for lack of a better word - dazed. It's memories were flowing through it like a seive, choice parts catching on the corners of its consciousness just long enough to hold before falling away like all the rest._

 _And to this soul that was... frustrating. These thoughts, these memories were - in a way at least - precious to the soul. They were more than just proof of it's own lifetime of toil and pain, but proof that it's allies had done the same._

 _It had lived, and died, and lived and died again and again, in a cycle that only now, when the memories were slowly fading away from it, could it recognize._

 _And so, the soul, for the first time since coalescing into a form that could loosely be considered capable of thought, **moved**. It had but one task now, a single driving purpose. If it wanted to retain it's memories, it's very **self** \- then it was going to need, a body._

-ooo-

 **POV: Jaune**

When Coco suggested we meet on neutral ground, I had sort of assumed she meant the _school_. The fact that her idea of 'neutral ground' turned out to be the biggest shopping mall in Vale simultaneously annoyed and disturbed me. Annoyed because I should have guessed that a place you could buy clothes was somewhere Coco would consider too precious to fight within, and disturbed because she clearly thought I would feel the same - which, if I was being honest, simply wasn't true. Obviously I had no interest in tearing the mall apart or hurting any of the civilians inside - but that actual building itself had so little value to me that if I could get away with it, I would trade the whole thing away in exchange for knowledge of how to beat even just a single Servant more.

"Well?" Coco said tartly, eyeing me over the rim of her sunglasses. She was dressed in her usual Huntress outfit - the standard, 'extremely colorful and noticeable' deal that we all seemed to gravitate towards, and holding her handbag out towards me, occasionally shaking the thing to draw my attention.

"Well, _what_?" I asked, on edge from all of the... _attention_ we were drawing. I was dressed in my usual jeans and a sweater combo, as boring and nondescript a Huntsman as I had ever scene. Which made the constant whispers and fingers pointed at me as I had traveled here so scary. The only distinguishing item I was wearing was my shield, and even that I was only carrying with me because I refused to be caught dead without it - mostly because the dead in that idiom was likely to become very literal should that occur. It was literally the generic training shield every student at Beacon had access to! _Anyone_ could grab one of these from the armory!

"She wants you to hold her bag." Velvet said apologetically, reaching out to grab the offending appendage and then shrinking back when Coco turned a withering glare on her for it. She was dressed much more casually in a red sundress and accompanying hat that hid her Faunus traits from sight, and I could feel my face heat up just a little bit looking at her. The only reason I _didn't_ get embarrassed looking at Coco was... well... she was kind of a bitch after all.

"No, I understand what she _wants,_ I'm just not sure why she thinks I would _do_ that." I provided, still pointedly ignoring the whispered conversations all around me and the dinky little purse that Coco was still waving about in my face.

"What you don't think being allowed to walk around with us in public is good enough Cherry Boy? Besides, don't you have a favor to ask or something? Is this _really_ how you want to start us off?" Coco challenged, edging her closed hand so close to my face that she was about an inch from just punching me in the nose and having done with it. I didn't doubt that this was as close to restraint as the angry woman was going to get today. Blessedly, _she_ wasn't really the person I wanted to talk to today - even if she did seem to be attached to her like a parasitic growth.

"You just thought something _very_ rude about me didn't you?" Coco said suddenly, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

I quickly considered all of my options. If this conversation had taken place earlier yesterday then I probably would have flipped Coco off, apologized to Velvet and left. Unfortunately, I needed help in a much greater capacity now than I had thought I would when I had scheduled this meeting.

"Nooot at all your highness. I was just thinking about how _blessed_ I am to be offered this _opportunity_ to _assist_ you." I said sarcastically. Coco scowled at me for a few seconds before opening her hand directly in front of my face and allowing her purse to drop to the ground, which it did so with a dull thud. I think she had been expecting me to scramble to pick it up or something, which again, I would have probably done for literally any other woman on the planet - but not for her. Instead, I quirked an eyebrow at her as though _daring_ her to blame me for that particular self-destructive act, before bending over to pick the purse up by its shoulder strap and shoving it under one arm.

"So. Any good places to talk shop around here?" I asked, addressing the question to Velvet and ignoring Coco's enraged spluttering at the slight.

"We were just going to put up a privacy field in the food court." The brunette said haltingly, glancing back and forth between Coco and I with a wince.

"Cool. That's... this way, right? I don't really come here often." I admitted, scanning the signs over the head that pointed in every possible direction for one that looked like it might direct me towards the food court.

"Not so fast chuckles! You didn't think we came all the way out here _just_ to talk to you did you? I have _shopping_ to do." Coco interrupted finally, shifting towards Velvet to grab her around the waist and glare at me. Velvet immediately turned shade paler at the proclamation.

"Yeah yeah. Make me sit around while you try clothes on for three hours and all that. I have sisters. I've been there." I scoffed, but became confused when Velvet didn't seem reassured by my boast.

"What?" I asked after a second when Coco's triumphant grin failed to leave her face.

Two and a half hours later, I collapsed into a chair in the food court, wondering not for the first time which circle of hell it was that Coco Adel was spawned from. As it turned out, Coco felt strongly that trying _anything_ on in my presence would be more of a reward than a punishment. More so than that, she was _rich_ which meant that, unlike the shopping I was accustomed to with my sisters - wherein they spent several hours looking at things but bought only a very small number of them - Coco could simply purchase _everything_ that caught her eye. And several things that caught Velvets. And naturally, I ended up carrying almost _all_ of those purchases. It wasn't so much the weight that was a problem as it was the volume. By the time we had finally made it to the food court I was carrying bags in ways I'm pretty sure I could write a dissertation on, because they bordered so closely on True Magic as made no difference.

With great relish, I divested myself of the last bag I had hung around my neck, twisting my head this way and that in order to get the blood flowing through it again. As I did so, I could just barely see Penny sitting at a nearby table, a mixed expression on her face that I could best describe as 'kicked puppy'. Despite being in the food court, she had no food, and didn't appear to be with anybody. This was, obviously, because she had come to the mall with me and - at my request - separated from me to perform what she referred to as 'covert surveillance'. I thought that was a pretty funny way to say 'follow you into every store and stare at you from the corner of the room', but the obviously hurt look on her face was more than enough to make me decide never to mention that fact to her. Once more I got the distinct feeling of wrongness when I looked at her, not because she herself was wrong - although that was an ever present fact that I had yet to get over - but because seeing her _unhappy_ felt wrong.

Shaking my head I quickly divested myself of such thoughts. There would be time for that kind of mushy stuff later. Like, when all my friends were safely back home later.

"So... I originally just wanted to-" I started but was cut off when Velvet held up one finger towards me, clearly asking me to wait while she fiddled with something on the table. Looking down I realized she had dipped her finger in the ketchup of her meal and was drawing something on the table with it - something that turned a hazy blue shortly after she was finished, and that silenced the chatter of the room around us. It was a trick I had seen Ozpin pull off before, although he had simply scrawled _his_ runs in the air, having no need for a physical medium.

"Sorry, It's just, that girl over there has been following us all day." Velvet said, using her body to shield the finger she was pointing with from easy sight. She was pointing at Penny of course, which was predictable if nothing else.

"Oh that's just-"

"It's just his girlfriend. Ignore her. She's probably just jealous." Coco drawled leaning back in her seat and slinging one arm over the back of Velvets seat beside her.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I thought- I mean-" Velvet spluttered, her serious air vanishing only to be replaced by the easily flustered and cowardly girl she presented as to the rest of the school.

"NO! I mean. She's not my... she's my uh, bodyguard." I offered after a second of my own spluttering, realizing too late how perfectly terrible that seemed as far as excuses went - even if it _was_ true.

"Uhuh. Look I'm flattered and all but we're not interested. So. What do you want?" Coco asked bluntly, completely ignoring my explanation and swiping a fry of the table to munch at. I could feel my stomach growl in protest at the sight but could only bite back my hunger. There was no way I would be able to make an order, let alone carry my food back to a table while handling this many bags.

"Thats... have either of you been have side effects? From the dream cycle?" I said, choosing to just jump right into my questions instead of acknowledging Coco's jabs.

"Side effects?" Velvet said curiously, silently sliding her box of fries towards me.

"Yeah like... weird flashbacks while you're awake? Or uh..." I paused, waving one hand infront of my discolored face and hair while the other swiped a few fries to consume. Velvet frowned at that, withdrawing her own fry to chew on while she considered my question.

"No, not really. Do you think that's something that might happen to me though?" She said when she was done, a worried look on her face.

"The hell is a Dream Cycle?" Coco said, sidetracking the both of us without an ounce of shame or regret.

"It's when you have dreams of your Servants past life." I said at the same time as Velvet blinked once and yelped; "Nothing!"

"Velvet..." Coco said, her voice changing to a concerned tone. The pair shared an uncomfortable look with each other that was about a thousand times more awkward for me as a bystander than it probably should have been before their eyes broke contact and Velvet turned back towards me, blushing slightly.

"Later okay?" She mumbled. Coco merely pursed her lips then nodded once.

"Sorry. If it hasn't happened to yet your probably fine... this has been happening to _me_ since I _got_ my servant." I offered with a shrug.

"Still uh, there was one more thing I wanted to ask you. See, you looked like you were using a type of Magecraft my Servant calls tracing back when we fought. Is that about right?" I asked tentatively, changing the subject when it became clear I wasn't going to be getting any new information on the topic from the pair.

"Right. My Semblance gives me perfect memory of anything I see, so I use a kind of psychometry to read the memories of objects to-" Velvet started but was cut off when Coco clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Velvet! Mysteries! Secret!" She squawked indignantly.

"Actually, that's the Magecraft that put my Servant on the Throne in the first place. That's uh... I mean, so I already know how it works." I provided, rolling my eyes at Coco when she scowled at me but taking heart when Velvet's eyebrows shot up to her hairline at my statement.

"So anyway, he says your not using it right and I wanted to offer you his services for a while!" I blurted out when it looked like Coco might physically assault me if I didn't get to my point.

"No." "Yes!" The two said in unison before turning to one another.

"Coco!" Velvet whined.

"Nothing is free you know Velvet. I bet he'll ask us to sleep with him or something - he seems like that kind of cretin." Coco shot back.

"What? No! The hell is wrong with you?" I yelped, offended that Velvet had apparently believed Coco long enough to pale in response to her assertion.

"Well you have to want _something._ It's not as though you get offers like this every day." Coco asserted once more, eyeing me with a mix of suspicion and barely restrained violence.

"Well, yeah kinda. But! I don't need you, I need your Servant!" I blurted out once more when Velvet physically leaned away from me at the admission.

"...Gross, but I'm listening." Coco said cautiously. At this point I _knew_ she was just messing with me so I let the comment slide past, but I definitely filed it away on my mental tally sheet for later consideration. I was going to be at Beacon for a good long time with Coco if I had anything to say about it. The opportunities for revenge would be limitless. But for now, I needed help. There was no way my circuits were going to be back to 100% in time for me to get home and summon Archer. I'd be lucky if I was in a good place just to use my own Magecraft by then. And I knew with all my heart that I was going to need a Servant to make my play. As it stood my Dad just _might_ be able to hold Rider off long enough for the rest of my family to do some truly unpleasant things to my friends. And what better servant to get the drop on someone than Assassin?

Taking a deep breath, and stealing one of Coco's fries - I made my pitch.

-ooo-

 **POV:Raven**

As it turns out, showing up announced to talk to someone can have it's... downsides. It had taken me only a handful of seconds to recall exactly _who_ was present in Juniper's house when I arrived there, and roughly that same amount of time to transfigure myself into the form of a bird when that realization had hit. I was confident that if Nicholas decided to dispose of the brats he would, at the least, recall the terms of our arrangement and let Yang go, but that didn't make it any less aggravating that she was being held by the man.

Juniper I could understand. She was, if nothing else, dedicated to the completion of the task her family had begun all those generations ago. While she might occasionally skew towards villainy in pursuit of such, there was a core of morality to her that would not allow her to simply 'execute' children when she could just as easily wipe their minds and send them on their way. Nicholas however... Nicholas was an entirely different beast. That man was as amoral as amoral could be. Mountain Glenn was a testament to that. And it was because of that apparent lack of goals or morals save for his support of his wife that made me leery of him.

One minute he could be yelling at me about how I choose to train those brats of his, and the next he's got a finger two inches deep in a wound one of my men has brought back from the field, completely ignoring the desperate screams for relief that inevitably follow him whenever he visits the medical tent.

I would never understand what Juniper saw him in.

Speaking of attractive men. Once it had become obvious to me that Juniper would be too occupied to find a moment to speak to me, I had quickly made the decision to return home. True, the vast majority of my men were bandits, and _stupid_ bandits at that - but they were still family, which was more than I could say for that stupid brother of mine on some days.

All of that, is why I was more than just a little annoyed by the time I stepped through my semblances portal into my tent. It was spacious enough, and certainly lacked none of the comforts that it was _possible_ to have in a tent in the wilds. A warm bed, a cabinet with all of the rare alchohol I was going to drink when I finally found a successor and retired. The usual creature comforts. Unfortunately, given my status as a _very_ wanted criminal, that list of comforts _did not_ include a scroll. Which was a pity, because if it did I could just inquire as to her sons protector _that way_ to Juniper.

Halfway through divesting myself of my equipment so that I could take a much needed bath, I was forced to pause, as the all encompassing _silence_ in the camp became apparent to me. It was a silence that had no place in my camp. If my men weren't training then they were supposed to be doing something else productive. Those were the rules as laid out by _me_. Anyone who took issue with them could take them up with me in the dueling pit. Which they wouldn't of course, because it would take hundreds of them to even _begin_ to attempt to best me. Growling under my breath about idiots with more muscles than sense I lifted my sheathe back into place and stepped out of my tent.

The sight that greeted me was... unexpected. All around me, my men lay in heaps, not dead but certainly not conscious either. Several of them looked as though they had been blasted away at great speed by something, lodged as they were in the cracked wooden walls of the palisade or swaddled in the destroyed remains of their tents. In the center of all this was... a horse. An armored horse at that. Armor that looked so pristine I could only assume that not a single one of my idiots had managed to scratch it.

Standing next to the horse, and arguing fervently with the woman sitting atop it, was Vernal. There were many things I could say about Vernal. She was... not... quite... like a daughter to me. But at the very least, she held a special place in my heart. If for no other reason than she took exceedingly well to my lifestyle and creedo. It would not be an exaggeration to say that if anyone was likely to replace me as the leader of the Branwen tribe, it would be Vernal.

Which actually made what I was witnessing significantly worse. Because Vernal - dressed loosely in leather garments she had only just barely managed to throw on, was begging, no _whining_ at the blond woman atop her horse.

"You can't just take out the whole camp! Who's going to stand watch now!?" She cried out in dismay.

"Master, you said these men were _bandits_." The woman said in confusion, waving her tremendous metal lance about as though to indicate what she thought was the natural consequence of that statement.

" _I'm_ a bandit!" Vernal cried out in frustration.

"And is that woman _also_ a bandit?" The blond woman said imperiously, turning her piercing gaze upon me for the first time since I had layed eyes on her. Her armor - an affectation not common to the average Huntress - was as immaculate as her horses, if not more so. She bore a blue mantel with fur trim about her shoulders, and her lance - upon closer inspection - look as though it had been woven together from a dozen strands of pristine white steel.

"She is. She also would like to know what exact it is that your doing in her camp." I said dryly, turning to regard Vernal as I spoke. The young woman blanched the second she heard my voice, but then to my amazement, ran directly towards me stopping not to far away from me.

"She just- I was just thinking about how great it would be if we could take over a town or you know, have a house and all and then there was this glow! And then she was here! And she said I was her Master but then the second I asked her why she wanted to be a bandit she started beating everyone up!" Vernal all but howled her explanation, flushing at the exertion.

"I don't actually. Wish to be a bandit that is. I did have a question however." The woman said, rolling her shoulders and throwing one leg overtop her horse - which promptly vanished from sight the second she slid off of it and touched the ground. I narrowed my eyes at the action, one hand moving to grasp the handle of my sword.

"Im afraid you would have to beat me for me to answer you - and I'm not in the greatest of moods right now." I growled, getting ready to engage the mechanism on my sheathe that would allow me to choose which form of dust I would bring to bear on my opponent.

"Then I will ask now, and you may answer me when you awaken. Have you seen an aggravatingly obtuse man, about yay tall, with white hair and a red coat?" The enemy said pleasantly. She need not have bothered - I had begun to move before she even finished speaking. She was strong, no doubt of that - but the chances of someone completely unknown being able to beat me in single combat were minuscule at best.

So minuscule in fact, that by the time my face hit the ground, and consciousness was leaving me, I still hadn't fully realized - that my charge had failed.

So it was the the King of Knights, and the Bandit Queen became intertwined.

-ooo-

 **So, first of all I have scanned through and taken notice of the missing section of text in the previous chapter. I have no idea what the hell happened to it, because I can't find it in my writing software or draft any more than I can find it in the posted chapter. Which is annoying. It's not _alot_ of text, but it is kind of a pain to go back and add it back in. Expect me to get to that sometime this week. **

**Meanwhile, the picture I mentioned being sent in the previous chapter can be found linked to in my profile now - I was unaware that was so anal about this kind of thing.**

 **As for this chapter. I had heavily debated who to use as the wars Lancer, and for a while I was planning on sticking to my theme of two or three star FGO Servants and sticking Raven - the Bandit with a Spartan look on life - with Leonidas, the literal Spartan. However, somewhere around the back half of my UBW chapter it came up that in alot of ways Arturia is in the same kind of stable time loop Archer is. She's summoned for Shirou during the 5th war consistantly across every timeline where it occurs, over and over and over, never maintaining her memories of the previous war - not properly anyway. And so I'm hoping to present her here as a sort of Anti-Archer. Someone who's gone through the same kind of infinite loop, this time with memories of some of it, and come out the other end happier for it instead of just bitter and suicidal like Archer is.**

 **To this end, I decided that maybe yanking Heroes off the throne without a reasonable way to send them back or delete them probably isn't something Jaune should be toying with right now - because it results in things like this. Arturia, largely fully able to remember her various incarnations in Shirous war, summoned as Lancer - which for anyone unfamilliar with FGO - is a version of her who gave up Excalibur and decided to use Rhongomyniad instead. Thus, she ages. It's kind of weird to wrap your head around but stick with me I promise I'm going somewhere with this.**

 **Oh and as always;**

 _ **Thanks for reading.**_


	33. Of Brilliant Blunders

**bianca, rose, Brun, lily, Mary & Anne, Jasmine**

 _'Are you sure about this?'_ Archer asked me from his lounging position opposite me in our shared passenger compartment.

 _'No.'_ I replied bluntly, staring out the window of the train. Oh I had an adhoc sort of plan, or rather, a number of available options and tools I could apply in any given situation that might pop up during my visit. But to say I had a 'plan' would be a joke, which meant that voicing anything even vaguely resembling confidence in said hypothetical plan would be likewise laughable. A few months ago I would have prepared... I don't know, maybe a single option, thought it halfway through, and left the rest up to chance. Or worse yet, made an entire highly meticulous plan.

There wasn't anything inherently wrong with either of those choices but to my experience... they wouldn't work. Not because my plans rarely do, but because I had about a dozen conflicting memories between myself and Archer that told me that plans only worked when they were simple and hard to foil. Nothing about my present situation was resolvable in a simple manner, which meant that any plan I might construct to handle it would be pathetically easy to foil by even the tiniest variance.

So I did what Archer had been apparently doing for most of his life, and assumed everything was going to go to hell ahead of time - then prepared accordingly.

Which brings me to now. It had been two days since my impromptu conversation with my Mother, and one since my most recent conversation with Velvet at the shopping mall. To say I was nervous would be an understatement.

 _'Then why are you so calm?'_ Archer asked quizzically, raising an eyebrow just in case I couldn't figure out how dubious he thought all of this was.

 _'Because at the very least it's unlikely that_ _ **I**_ _will die.'_ I answered absent-mindedly, letting my hand stray to the pouch of dust crystals on my belt for what must have been the thousandth time that day. Some quick testing in the morning had told me in no uncertain terms that my circuits were - for lack of a better word - fried. It wasn't that Magecraft hurt more so than usual, because actually it was the opposite. Running prana through my circuits was practically painless for me right now. The problem was, I was still _very much_ injured from our fight with Caster, and a quick structural analysis was all I needed to confirm that doing too much with my circuits right now would only worsen my physical condition the longer I did it. It just didn't _feel_ that way. I guess I could chalk that up to the magical nerve damage thing Archer was talking about.

 _'That's... surprisingly cold of you.'_ Archer pointed out his eyebrows rising slightly - whether in pleasant surprise or shock I couldn't quite tell.

 _'It's... I mean I think I've got enough prepared that my friends can get away. If my Mom has the same concerns as Ozpin over their peace treaty thing, then she'll probably let my friends go once she has me.'_ I began, putting into words thoughts that had been swirling around in my head for the better part of the last day and a half of furious preparation.

 _'But?'_ Archer prodded, swirling his finger in a get on with it motion.

 _'But what I_ _ **can't**_ _guarantee is that_ _ **I'll**_ _be able to get away. My parents have being doing this whole Magecraft thing for a while now, and I_ _**definitel**_ **y** _can't handle them and my sisters with my current limitations.'_ I finished with a frown, turning back towards the window and the scenery passing me by at blinding speeds. And there was the rub of it really. Archer and I figured that with my current condition, I could host him for maybe a solid minute before the burn on my circuits started to kill me. Even odds were that, I would either come out the other end of that experience as burnt up looking as Archer or not at all. And that meant that, for the moment at least, I pretty much wasn't a Master - which was my primary advantage over my family in the first place.

 _'So? If they aren't likely to kill you, and your friends aren't likely to die, then everything seems to be coming out in your favor.'_ Archer said with a shrug. He had been... oddly relaxed for the last day or two. Granted, I had more or less told him I was going to be trying to achieve True Magic in my lifetime, and true said Magic may or may not let me yank him off the throne and slap him in a body, but it was still... really weird. It wasn't just that he was relaxed, he was also just... generally wistful. After he had said his two cents about Arturia he had taken to stopping and getting this far away look in his eyes every now and then, like he was remembering something. And it was creepy because the more he did it the more 'Archer' started to act like 'Shirou Emiya'. Oh he was still pretty apt to dismiss anything below a certain level of danger as a problem, and he still _definitely_ preferred to point out lethal ways to solve my problems, but it almost felt like he was just going through the motions.

Basically, he was acting like an actual person and not a perpetually bitter watchdog. And it was _weird_.

 _'I... actually no, I can't let it go. What the hell is up with you?'_ I said, completely derailing the conversation, and turning back to look at him with my brows furrowed. Archer froze like a deer in the headlights for a second before sneering at me the way he always did when he thought I was being a pain.

 _'What does_ _ **that**_ _mean?'_ He replied in an annoyed voice.

 _'You're all... I dunno, happy almost. Sometimes you just stare at a wall or something for fifteen minutes then start chuckling to yourself for no reason. It's creepy.'_ I explained completely seriously. My Servants mouth opened and closed a couple of times like he wasn't sure what to say to that before shrugging nonchalantly at me and easing back into his seat as though he wasn't just an intangible phantom.

 _'I was just remembering some things is all._ ' He said nonchalantly. I felt my eyebrows make a slow climb up my face until they were practically touching my hairline, an expression Archer obviously didn't appreciate because he scowled at me again.

 _'What?_ ' He bit out.

 _'You... I mean has anyone ever told you that you can be surprisingly terrible at lying sometimes?'_ I retorted incredulously. Once more Archer looked lost for a response, (Two in one day. Go me.) but then quickly got a thoughtful look on his face and chose to explain himself - which in and of itself was bizarre for him.

 _'I don't - as a rule - have an amazing grasp of my own memories when I get summoned. My Master's apparently have a habit of doing it wrong.'_ He started, giving me a pointed look that I could only grunt in response to. He definitely had me there. Our situation would be a lot easier if I didn't have to let him fight using my body all the damn time.

 _'Even when I do manage to remember things, it's fragmented, and often contradictory. I've done this whole thing so many times I don't even really know which version of 'me' ends up as 'me'.'_ He continued, gesturing towards himself with a thumb for emphasis.

 _'That doesn't really explain anything though.'_ I pointed out cautiously, assuming he was going to get to his point sooner or later.

 _'No but... ever since you summoned Saber it's like... all those fragmented memories are snapping into place. For the first time in a while I can consistently remember the course of my life.'_ He stated somewhat uncertainly, like he wasn't sure if I quite grasped the significance of his statement. Weirdly, I sort of _did_. I mean, I'd been sifting through the memories of various versions of 'Shirou Emiya' for a few months now, so I knew better than most how weird his life and times were regardless of what... timeline I guess would be the word... he was in. In the back of my head I started to hypothesize that maybe the reason Archer was such a dour and efficient killing machine was the lack of those memories, but I chose not to actually mention it to him until I had further proof to that end.

 _'Besides none of that really matters. You didn't answer my question._ ' Archer said, waving at me to get my attention away from my own pondering.

 _'Huh? Oh right. Well even if they don't kill me they could probably keep me locked up indefinitely. Or at least until my circuits heal enough to summon you again.'_ I explained, still chewing over my newfound revelations with regards to Archer as a means of distracting myself from my current problems. I didn't have to explain to Archer how bad that would be after the fact. Even if I could eventually get Archer to bail me out, there were a lot of ways a _Magus_ could make a person miserable without killing them, and unfortunately I'm pretty sure my parents had invented most of them.

Damn. Now I was thinking about it again.

Grimacing at that thought I once more turned towards the window. Today was going to _suck_.

-ooo-

As it turned out, my family apparently trusted me about as far as they could throw me. Which, while quite far in some of my sisters cases, still wasn't enough to leave me unchaperoned from the train station to the house. Or at least, that's the logic I _assume_ went into the decision to have my father waiting for me on the platform, happily waving at me like a normal parent greeting a child returning from school.

"You know, I'm not an invalid right?" I grumped at him as I approached from the doors of the train, not even bothering to try and hide from him. As always there was basically no one else getting off at Ansel - mostly because it was so close to the last stop as made no difference and there wasn't really anything of particular note here except for my family. A situation I was starting to think was more by design than by coincidence give how far away Ansel was from Beacon and consequently, Ozpin.

"To be fair kiddo, the last time we spoke most of your ribs were dangerously close to coming out your back." My Dad pointed out, wiggling his eyebrows at me in a way I'm sure he thought was disarming or friendly.

"Aura Dad. Aura." I said, rolling my eyes and choosing to ignore him for the most part - that is, until my eyes caught on the sword casually hanging at his hip.

"Aura that you've only had for a few months and have no idea how to use properly." He chided me, awkwardly cuffing me on the back of the head to prove his point. I think he expected me to somehow fail to reduce the damage with my Aura or something, but at this point I was so used to being halfway beaten to death that I didn't even bother flinching away from the strike. My Dad's hand just bounced off the back of my head with a tiny flash, after which I leveled an annoyed stare at him before returning my gaze to his sword like nothing had happened.

"...Huh. Guess you _did_ attend Beacon for a while there..." Nicholas said, his ever present grin fading only slightly before it immediately brightened again at my interest.

"Do you like it? I don't usually wear it around town but some kids tried to break into our house the other day. Can never be too careful." He said chipperly, patting the simple short sword in its leather sheathe affectionately. I wanted to scream just seeing him touch the thing. I had no idea what the hell it was made of because I couldn't cast structural grasp on it without physically touching the thing, but it fairly _radiated_ prana. It was like watching someone strolling around town with a nuclear warhead attached to their hip. _That's_ how much power was rolling off the damn thing.

 _'Archer? Do you see the sword?'_ I asked my Servant over our link, even as I struggled to keep my face unenthused and my attention less noticeably on the weapon. Archer was - largely due to concerns that my Father might be able to detect him - presently standing on top of the Hospital, a vantage point from which he could allegedly see all the way to my house.

 _'It's. Made. Of. Philosopher. Stones.'_ He bit out, saying each word like it physically pained him to do so.

 _'And a Philosopher Stone is?'_ I asked him at the same time as I said; "Crocea Mors is better." in a sulky tone to my Father who smirked at the statement like I had just told a funny joke.

 _'Magical stone created by a famous Alchemist that's supposed to grant eternal life and the ability to transmute any material into any other material.'_ Archer state matter of factly.

"Eh, that old thing barely even works. I'm surprised they let you use it at that school of yours." My dad said, elbowing me in the side companionably as we continued our slow walk through the streets of Ansel.

"It saved my life." I said bluntly, ignoring the way Nicholas blinked in surprise at me for a moment after I spoke.

"So where is it now? Did you leave it at school? I can have them send it over for you if you want." He offered after a seconds thought. I snorted, ignoring the fact that he obviously didn't expect me to be going back to school to get it myself, he obviously wasn't aware that Crocea Mors had been broken for a while now, a fact I found secretly hilarious.

"No it's fine. It's not like it's going anywhere. Just needs some oiling and it works fine for me." I said instead of actually explaining any of that. I had no doubt that he was probably aware of the Elemental that once lived inside the sword, which meant telling him I broke it would set alarm bells to ringing in his head. Silence fell between us for a couple of seconds as the familiar streets of Ansel fell away and we traversed the forested path up to our home on the outskirts of the city. My dad looked like he was trying to find a way to say something and I had a good idea of what so I ignored him in lieu of checking in with Archer.

 _'Are we good?'_ I asked worriedly. For a second I spared a thought for Penny, who I'd gotten to stay behind by the simple expedient of giving Ironwood one of my Arcdust vials to study. Or use. I didn't really care. There were other reasons I had to make that trade however. Such as...

 _'The Bullhead still hasn't arrived yet no. I'll keep you updated._ ' Archer said, then fell silent.

Yeah I realized pretty early on that one of the easiest ways to get away from my sisters if they decided to stop me from leaving was flight. If my parents cared at all about keeping me alive they couldn't just blow my ride out of the sky, and I was pretty sure none of my sisters could fly so unless one of them happened to be capable of traveling great distances at speed (hint: they couldn't) then I - at the very least - had at least one means of getting away in an emergency.

"Kiddo... you know you aren't going back to school right?" My Dad finally said, breaking me out of my own thoughts and drawing my attention to him just as we reached the edge of the yard. I took one look and stopped, causing my Dad, who had gotten a bit ahead of me, to turn and give me a quizzical glance.

"I don't know dad. I'm learning tons of useful stuff there." I said innocently, stretching a hand out to rest against a nearby tree seemingly at random. With quick, practiced ease, I directed my will and a safe - fairly tiny - amount of Prana towards the rudimentary ward anchored to the tree. If I was trying to break into the house without anyone knowing this wouldn't have worked. Disabling the word in such a sloppy way would send a warning to whoever made it just as easily as walking through the thing would. But I _wasn't_ trying to be sneaky. I was, as a point of fact, trying to do the opposite.

"Alllllll kinds of stuff." I repeated, stretching out the word 'all' smugly before turning to observe the look on my Fathers face. I was surprised to find that - rather than annoyed or worried - he was practically having an apoplectic melt down. On the one hand, this meant that showing him a tiny, sloppy bit of Magecraft had achieved it's goal of distracting him from the ward I had taken down so Assassin could get past it. On the other hand, my Dad had practically teleported in front of me to slap his hands down on my shoulders in an overly aggressive manner that actually caused my Aura to glow slightly in response to the impact. His eyes were wide with outrage, and he was flushed red and breathing hard like he had just been screaming for hours despite the perfectly level conversation we had been having until that moment.

"Jaune. This is very important. Tell me you didn't start learning that subpar excuse for a parlor trick Ozpin calls Magecraft." He said hastily, his eyes wide and manic as they searched my own.

"Nope. I'm self taught. Did you know great grandpa had this journal full of spells in it?" I deflected calmly, taking note of the way my Dad relaxed the moment I had refuted him. For whatever reason the idea of learning Magecraft the 'dumb' way that Qrow used it seemed to really distress him, though I couldn't for the life of me figure out why.

"Good. That's... good." He breathed lowly, before looking me in the eye again.

"Listen Jaune, I know we've been sort of rough on you, but there are some things you just don't know about okay? Once we get you trained properly it'll be easier to understand." He said in what I guess he thought was a reassuring tone of voice. The problem was, the way he said it sounded so close to the way he would deflect me when I asked about Hunter training that it immediately set me on edge. I don't even think he realized it, because despite my suddenly terse look at him, he just smiled and returned to walking up the path to the house like the conversation was settled.

"Dammit Dad..." I mumbled under my breath after him. The worst part about this whole thing was I kept _wanting_ to give my family the benefit of the doubt. Hoping beyond everything my past experiences had told me, that maybe they _did_ have a really good reason for everything they did. But so far all I was getting was more of the same. 'Maybe when you're older'. 'It's too much for you right now.' 'You wouldn't understand'. I'd been getting platitudes like that my whole life in one form or another. Now that I actually _had_ what I wanted, they just didn't hold the same sway over me that they once did. As in, none at all.

Still apprehensive about this entire endeavor I started forward once more towards the front door of my house, only to be halted by a black and red missile blurring through the front door and past my dad before slamming into my stomach and sending me sprawling onto my ass.

"Jaune!" Ruby cried happily, having somehow managed to hug me and disengage before I finished falling and thus, avoided following me to the ground as I did so.

"Hey Rubes. How's tricks?" I said with genuine happiness, feeling some of the tension leave me once I had visually confirmed that she was more or less okay.

"Great! Your Mom and Dad are really nice! And they made cookies!" She exclaimed, flinging her hands into the air triumphantly. I was just about to chuckle at her obvious joy when I noticed something highly disturbing about the smaller girls outline and decided to point it out.

"Hey uh... where's Crescent Rose?" I said curiously, pointing to the spot where I would usually be able to see her weapon peaking out from behind her back. Her eyes glazed over for a second and she froze in place like a video game character that had glitched before she returned to motion, pulling my up with both hands and pulling me towards the door.

"Common! Everyone's waiting!" Ruby said, completely failing to answer my previous question. I pursed my lips in response to the obvious display of weirdness, and sent a subtle glare towards my Father who just shrugged at me as though to say 'Not my idea'.

"Okay, okay. I can walk on my own you know?" I said, shaking my arm free of Ruby and following behind her with a strained chuckle that I had to really work at not allowing to turn into a growl of frustration. Obviously I shouldn't have really been surprised at this development - it didn't make a lot of sense to let your hostages keep weapons on them - but something about Ruby being separated from her baby and _not caring about it_ struck me as such a perversion of her character that I immediately wanted to punch somebody over it.

"Hey everyone! Jaune's here!" Ruby yelled into the house the second we passed through the front door. At first nothing happened, but then - like a tide of humanity - all of my sisters, friends and teammates began to pour out of the house, coalescing into a vast mob of people filling up the entryway, the stairwell, and part of the hallway leading to the kitchen.

"What's up vomit boy." Yang called raucously from near the back of the crowd.

"What's the story on that one?" Lily asked curiously from where she was leaning against a nearby wall.

"Oh man. Our first day of school he practically died of motion sickness on the Bullhead. It was hilarious!" Yang replied, before the entire hall devolved into a huge mix of people greeting me and firing anecdotes and jokes off at each other. It was _super_ weird. Like all of my friends had just been absorbed into the rest of my family and had somehow assimilated while I wasn't looking. It was only when I looked closer did I realize the awkwardness of it all. The way my sisters were clearly overacting their responses, or handing out easy openings for my friends from Beacon to speak. More so than that, the way Pyrrha was slowly shifting to put herself closer to me, or the way her eyes subtly tracked everyone in the room as if preparing for a fight. Or the way Ren and Nora were sticking together. I mean, they were always 'stuck together', but right now it was less in a clingy Nora way and more in a scared animal huddling together way. It wouldn't be very obvious to anyone else but I had spent a fairly decent period of time getting to know the two, if only because Ren took some work to really understand.

"Hey guys." I said easily into the din, greeting everyone at once and then sidling up to pull Pyrrha into a huge hug. She, of course, went entirely rigid at the contact, but I just couldn't help myself. I really missed my friends, and even if I hadn't exactly been running in circles and screaming about it, the idea that they were being held hostage was so anxiety inducing that I could count the number of hours I'd slept these last two days on one hand.

"I have a plan." I whispered stealthily into Pyrrha's ear as we drew closer, even as she slowly relaxed long enough to reciprocate the hug, giving me a single squeeze in return.

"Jaune I -" Pyrrha started to reply but was drowned out by a loud faux cough emanating from somewhere to my left.

"EHEM. You know Jaune, keeping us all waiting was _exceptionally_ rude." Weiss' haughty voice rang out, causing Pyrrha to hop away from me in surprise. I didn't blame her. We were friends but not really 'embrace each other for long periods of time' friends. It must have been awkward for her.

"Ahah... sorry. I'll uh... make it up to you?" I tried, not really sure why she was staring at me so intently after Pyrrha had disengaged herself from me. For a little while we just sort of stared at each other, like two gunslingers getting ready to draw, and I almost gave up and just asked her what she wanted when Pyrrha jumped in to save me, face still slightly flushed with embarrassment.

"Why don't we all give Jaune some space? I'm sure he's tired from the trip." She said, causing the mob to begrudgingly start to break up as my sisters began to slowly move away to do... whatever they were doing before I arrived. Team RWBY and the rest of my own team milled about for a bit longer, but Pyrrha and Weiss just sort of locked gazes for a bit before turning away from each other. I watched the exchange go by with a quizzical expression on my face before chalking it up to 'girl stuff' and promptly filing it away for later consideration.

"You guys go ahead, I'm going to talk to my Dad for a bit." I said, waving my friends away for a minute before walking past all of them to head towards the kitchen.

"Oh? News to me." My Dad said with a strained laugh, apparently still just a bit rattled by his little bout of mania out in the yard. I ignored him, slightly annoyed by how easy it was to fall into normal patterns with him now that I was home again. My dad had pretty much always treated me as the straight man to his comedy act. For reasons I couldn't quite fathom he seemed to love saying stuff that was going to annoy people, just so I could correct or refute him seconds later. It was a dynamic I used to enjoy as a child, and then got bored of as I got older - mostly because it seemed like he was only doing it because he couldn't think of a better or more intimate way to handle me. Still he... sort of tried I guess.

"Mooooom! I'm hooooome!" I yelled up the stairs to where my mom was probably relaxing in her bedroom reading a book or something. Or... doing Magecraft possibly. Honestly, I had always sort of assumed my mom didn't _have_ a hobby until recently. Now all the time she seemed to spend in her room with the door locked was beginning to take on a distinctly Magus-y feel to it when I reexamined my memories on the subject.

"Coming dear~" I heard my Moms whimsical voice call back to me.

Five minutes later and I found myself in a awkward huddle in the kitchen with my father sitting at the table across from me. His expression was still somewhat distressed as a result of his previous freak out, but he was doing a good job of keeping a lid on it. My mother meanwhile, had breezed into the room and immediately set a kettle to boiling. She leaned easily against the kitchen counter in stark contrast to my father's obvious tension, and directed knowing smile at me as she did so.

It was jarring enough that I found I could only grimace in response to the provocation. My Dad might be worried about what to do next, but Juniper Arc clearly had no such issues. As far as she was concerned she had already won. A notion I wasn't yet planning to disabuse her of.

"So... when are you going to send my friends home?" I said, opening up the conversation. My Dad snorted at the question before wincing sheepishly at the sharp glance my Mom shot him in response to the question.

"First why don't you tell us about how you know them dear. You don't have a lot of friends." My mother said diplomatically.

"They're in the same year as me Mom. We share classes. Half of them are on my team. At school. That they're missing." I said bluntly. I took a subtle glee in the slightly taken aback expression my Mother shot me when I spoke. It was an expression that immediately warped into one of distress when she finally replied to my statement.

"Well yes I gathered, I meant, how many of them are you _sleeping with."_ She said.

"What!? None!" I screeched after a second to process.

"But... you _live with them._ " My Mom repeated, obviously not comprehending the statement.

"That doesn't - you hypnotized all of them, why not just ask!" I retorted, noting the complete lack of any sign of guilt at the accusation.

"Kiddo, I love you, but there is no way I want to hear about your sex life." My Dad said, answering for both himself and my mother at once.

"Then why are you asking _now!?"_ I fired back aghast.

"You have to know that we're a Magus family by now dear. We obviously aren't as strict as we could be but-" my Mother started, trailing off after a second.

"Our lineage matters to us, is what your mother is trying to say. We just want to leave you a world that's better than this. We thought if you had taken a fancy to one of those girls we could make well... arrangements." My dad said delicately. Or rather, he was probably aiming for delicate, but he ended up landing somewhere closer to sinister - at least to my mind. Even more so than that, the specific way he had said 'leave you a world' was so text book super villain I almost cringed when I heard it.

"...arrangements. Right. Can..." I paused not really knowing how to phrase what I wanted. Honestly, despite having come here with a plan and all the will in the world to raze this place to the ground if I had to, I was feeling decidedly... small. Even though I had been verbally firing back at my parents since returning home, I hadn't really seen the clear opportunity to lash out I had been hoping for. Or rather, an obvious justification. Even now, I was sitting in my kitchen and getting more attention from them than I had gotten since I was ten years old.

Intellectually I knew most of what they had said and done had a much more villainous background context than what it appeared but even still... I felt very much like old Jaune. The Jaune who would grumble about it but eventually cave to his parents demands, or quietly shut up when looked at askance.

If it came to it, I would do what I had to, but that actually made it worse. It made it so I was sitting here, floundering around the topic of _girls_ instead of denouncing the bad guys like I should have been.

With a quick glance upwards I realized my parents were staring at me expectantly, waiting patiently for me to continue my rogue thought. Then I thought of Nora and Ren, huddling at the back of my family like caged animals, watching each others backs as though they were deep in the Grimmlands, and my resolve firmed.

"Yeah about that. I found your book in the library at school." I said as calmly as I could though I'm sure the slight tremble in my voice didn't go unnoticed.

"My- Oh! That old thing. I was only just learning then. Was it helpful?" My Mom asked, her expression turning to one of frank interest.

"Helpful? Mom, I didn't even get to read it. Some upperclassmen had the thing. The first thing they tried to do when I got on campus was kill me - _because your book said to._ " I pointed out firmly, and was gratified by the awkward and sour expression that crossed my Mothers face as she listened to me.

"But surely Ozpin-" My Mother offered after a moment of consideration, only to be swiftly cut off by my Dad when he had another one of those weird mood swings of his.

"What were the names of the little pissants?" He said coldly, his gaze narrowing and his hands flexing around something only he could see.

"I'm not-" I tried to reply, intending to refuse his question if not outright ignore him, but was interrupted by the sound of Nicholas Arc slamming his fists down on the kitchen table so hard it more or less blew apart like a very weak shrapnel grenade. Hunks of wood and screws sailed past me, with several larger hunks bouncing off of me, draining my Aura in the process. I could see flashes of light coming from my Mother telling me roughly the same had happened to her. My Dad though... there was no Aura flash there. He just weathered the storm of projectiles like it wasn't even there, allowing his clothing to become slightly torn by the barrage even though the skin underneath was almost entirely undamaged.

"This isn't a game Jaune! We are _this close_ to finishing what your Grandfather started. If something were to happen to you then I don't-" He ranted at me, his expression becoming more and more manic the longer he spoke.

"Nicholas." My Mother cut in, clearly intending to stop him from getting too heated. Unfortunately he ignored her to continue his tirade.

"I don't even _know_ how long it would take to recover! Do you even know how valuable you are!? How much _work_ went into making you!? Years of-"

" _CASTER!"_ My Mom hissed, causing both me _and_ my Father to freeze in place. She looked somewhere between annoyed and disappointed by the sudden outburst, and turned an apologetic look on me after staring my father down hard enough to force him to turn away from her petulantly.

"I'm sorry dear. There's just a lot you don't understand right now." She apologized, turning a critical eye on the damaged kitchen.

"Then explain it." I said bluntly.

"I'm not sure you would really understand if I did." She admitted with a dismissive shrug, still not actually looking at me.

"Oh you mean like I wouldn't understand how to be a Huntsman, or how to wield Magecraft, or how to do _anything_ other than what you tell me? I'm not a robot Mom. I've fought, and I've bled, and I've killed to get what I want. And if you hadn't kidnapped my friends I'd still be exactly where I want to be, which is as far away from _here_ as possible." I growled, my ire reaching it's peak.

"So just... tell me _why._ " I pleaded, all the rage draining out of me only to be replaced by a bone deep tiredness.

"You want me to tell you why we've spent your whole life trying to keep you safe? Trying to keep you away from dangerous magic and scary monsters? We're your _parents_." My Mother said pointedly, turning towards me and leveling a stare at me that screamed 'you are about to become grounded'.

"You know Mom, I might actually believe that if I didn't have a fairly decent grasp on what kind of amoral psychopath the average Magus was. You know, the kind that writes books about ripping peoples nerves out for fun." I answered, my hand dropping to the pouch of shape stones at my hip - just in case. I wish I could have brought my shield but it was extremely conspicuous, and - more importantly - would tell my parents exactly how good I was at Magecraft with just a glance.

"Ah, so Ozpin _has_ been filling your head with his lies." My Mother said dryly, her eyes flicking down to my hand where it rested and then back up to me sadly.

"Sure. Let's go with that. Way to not answer the question by the way. Also, I don't think Dad means the same thing as anyone else might when he says he _made me_." I opined, making sure to keep one eye on the man in question, who had an extremely complicated expression on his face.

"If we tell you, there's no going back." My Father said, breaking the tension between my Mother and I. His expression was both fiercely determined, and subtly sad at the same time. As though he truly _did_ consider explaining things to me to be bad for me over all. For just the briefest of moments I felt a flash of memory flicker past of a moonlit night with a father not my own. It was followed immediately by a tremendous headache that did nothing to lessen my stress in the moment.

"You literally tortured people. While you were in _high school_. Unless you're about to tell me the goal is world peace I'm about _this_ close to giving up my last name." I said with a frown.

"It's cute that you think Arc is actually your last name." Nicholas grumbled in annoyance, all traces of my amiable moron Father gone from him.

"Well I'm not going to be a Flamel either." I answered, almost reflexively to the jab. Nicholas winced slightly at that but forged onward with his point.

"Nope. Not that either. See, Arc wasn't your grandpa's name. It was the name of the man he killed when he got here." Nicholas said with a chuckle that was completely devoid of any mirth. I glanced at my Mother for confirmation, and though she was still clearly in the mood to punish me for my insolence, she merely rolled her eyes at me the way she always did when Dad got a little too theatrical with one of his stories.

"What the hell does _that_ mean?" I said, my hand easing away from my shape stone pouch now that it seemed like I was actually getting somewhere.

"Well your Great Grandpa was, if his frequent complaints are to be believed, something of a failed apprentice to a man named Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg." Nicholas said, pausing to check my expression for recognition. _I_ didn't know the name but just in case, I tossed it to Archer.

 _'Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg? Ring a bell Archer?'_ I surreptitiously sent to my Servant.

 _'The Kaleidoscope. Is he in the room with you? If so, you should run.'_ My Servant answered me seriously.

Archer's answer left me significantly less than pleased. The Kaleidoscope... why did I recognize that from somewhere? Not recent but... no, wasn't it Archer that mentioned it that one time? Something to do with the moon?

 _'Isn't that the guy who killed the moon on your planet or something?'_ I asked.

 _'Yes.'_ Archer answered calmly and succinctly, which scared the shit out of me. Mostly because instead of correcting my obviously exaggerated statement, he had merely agreed to it. As though 'killing the moon' was such an obvious achievement that it didn't bear thinking about. Which was... nuts.

My father must have noticed me pale slightly as all the implications settled in, because he nodded at me approvingly - although I have no idea why.

"Your grandfather was apparently such a tremendous disappointment to his master, that he was stranded here and given the task of mastering enough of the Kaleidoscope to return. Obviously..." My Father said, pausing to wave a hand around us, "... he failed."

"That tells me literally nothing about why you two are such terrible parents, and why my last name is fake." I said carefully.

"I'm getting to it. You see, your grandfather knew he had no possible chance of returning home by using the Kaleidoscope. If True Magic was so easy to master, then everyone would be doing it. So instead, he resorted to his own families magics, using a liberal application of Hypnotism to ingratiate himself into a relatively wealthy family to fuel his efforts." Nicholas said, his face twisting into a cruel smile. I felt my gut twist into a knot as he spoke, feeling somehow as though I _really_ didn't want to know what he was going to say next.

"You see, the Einzbern family that your grandfather hailed from specialized in just one thing. They were fantastic at making Homunculi true, but that wasn't their goal - it was just a step along the path to reaching it. No, the Einzbern family dreamt of one day achieving a True Magic of its own. One that your old man was much more familiar with. The Heaven's Feel." My Dad said gleefully.

"You uh... sound like you were _there."_ I said carefully. By this point it was obvious what his answer would be, but I had to know. I had to _confirm,_ what I already felt to be the truth.

"That's because I was." Nicholas said flatly, his eyes turning misty and distant.

"You know, they teach you kids about the Color War, but Ozpin was very careful not to allow _why_ that war was fought into any textbook." He said hazily.

"The Grail." I said weakly, closing my eyes in annoyance. Great. So now I knew that every bad thing the Grail had caused, every person who had been murdered by Caster - My wars Caster, not my Father - was, in some way, my families fault. Peachy. It wasn't like sleeping wasn't _already_ hard for me.

When I opened my eyes again, my mother wore a shocked expression on her face and my fathers was shifting quickly back into a hardly restrained snarl.

" _How do you know that word?_ " Nicholas said with a scowl. I quickly did a quick run down of my options here. Sure I could just come out and tell them my Servant had explained it to me, but that would entail explaining that I had a Servant in the first place, which was an advantage I wasn't willing to give up yet. So, quickly formulating the best response I could, I lied.

"I went to Mountain Glenn for a mission. I know a spell that lets me read an objects history and well..." I trailed off, noting that my Mothers face had become even more shocked and pale, while my Fathers looked strangely relieved if anything.

"Sweetheart we didn't... we had no choice you see?" My Mother offered weakly. I didn't see, because I was lying and therefore had _no_ idea what she had done there to be so ashamed of. The only clues I had were the curse that apparently saturated the whole city and the simple fact that everyone who lived there was obviously dead. Which meant that once more I found myself having to bullshit my way through something.

"I get it. Kind of. Magi are bastards. Unlimited Power is a huge incentive to be a bastard. Things... happened." I said, keeping the statement so completely non descriptive and vague even I could hardly believe it when my Mother gave me a relieved nod of her own in response to it. Silence reigned in the kitchen for a little while, but eventually I decided to keep the conversation moving.

"So..." I said, gaze flicking back and forth between my parents.

" _Why_ couldn't you tell me any of this before?" I asked. Sure, now I had slightly more context for my parents actions in the _past_ but that didn't really mean much to my _present._

"Because you and your sisters are the key to everything. The plan won't work unless you're all together." My Dad explained feverishly, clearly trying to come across as convincing.

"Then why do _they_ all know what's going on and _I_ don't. What _plan?_ " I said acerbically.

"To stop the Grail." My Mother and Father said as one, turning to shoot each other that creepy smirk they always did before keeping me up all night with their squeaky ass bed and too thin walls.

I wanted to tell them to knock it the hell off, to quit deflecting from my actual question and tell me why _I_ couldn't have been told any of that, but at that moment Weiss chose to glide into the kitchen, taking one step over the threshold and freezing in place when she took in the wreckage of kitchen table we had been sitting at.

"Ah, , I was just coming to ask... about..." Weiss said, trailing off and then sending an accusing gaze towards _me_ of all people.

"I didn't do it!" I whined, pointing a finger at my Dad who was still way too riled up by his spiel to be acting normally yet.

"Really Jaune? 'It wasn't me' is the best you can do?" She replied to me in exasperation before striding over the wreckage and grabbing me by one arm to drag me bodily out of the kitchen.

"What? No it really wasn't me! Seriously!" I shouted, beginning to get _actually_ annoyed by the interruption.

"My apologies Mr and , I'll have him better trained by the time he's introduced to my Father." Weiss said absentmindedly as she pulled me along, causing my eye to twitch as the weirdness of the statement came through.

"Why would I-" I tried to ask but was talked over by my Mother who had shifted back into being an overly affectionate older woman all of a sudden.

"Oh I like her." She crooned after us as we left.

"That's because she's like _you_." My Dad grumbled, his voice fading as we got further away from the kitchen.

"Weiss! Weiss stop dragging me I can walk just fine!" I yelped as the forward momentum of the tiny woman in front of me began to make walking without falling over progressively harder.

"Then why didn't you walk _here_? You could have done it in time I assure you." She hissed at me as we reached the living room before shoving me down onto the couch and taking a seat beside me.

"Weiss, I never agreed to _meet_ you here." I said tiredly.

"So you forgot. You are a _terrible_ boyfriend." She answered sourly, jabbing a finger into my chest that sent all the air wooshing out of me as though I had been hit by a sack of bricks. Not so much from the force of the jab but of the _words_.

"Weiss, hold still for a minute would you?" I said in sudden, stark, terror as I grabbed hold of the sides of her head and turned her to look at me.

 _'Archer! Hypnosis! Break! How!'_ I screamed to my Servant.

 _'Jolt of Prana should do it if it's just normal Hypnosis. If her actual memories have been modified then you're out of luck though.'_ He explained quickly, before adding on;

 _'Also, the Bullhead is here. Just a little bit out of town.'_

 _'Thanks buddy.'_ I said, already completely focused on making sure Weiss was going to be okay and, more importantly, _not_ skin me alive for leaving her like this. With a minor exertion of my will to move my Prana, and a much _greater_ exertion of my will to ignore the embarrassed puckering of Weiss lips as I drew closer to her, and sent a shock of my own mana rushing through Weiss' body. Her Aura snapped into place for a second, and for the briefest of moments I could feel it the same way I could feel my own, but the sensation quickly vanished, leaving me holding a slowly reddening Weiss. Only now it was less embarrassment and more... well if I had to hazard a guess I'd say 'homicidal rage'.

"Don't scream!" I said quickly, removing my hands from her head and leaping about a foot away from her and consequently off the couch. I watched as Weiss' face turned from bright red, to _dark_ red, to a pallid pale hue that made even _her_ pure white skin seem sickened and unhealthy. Her expression likewise worried me, morphing from angry, to scared, to panicked in nearly no time at all. By the time she had managed to resume something approaching conscious thought, she had already turned a gaze that was half worry and half despair towards me.

"Jaune?" She said after a few seconds, her eyes darting around like she was expecting my parents to come out of nowhere and re-hypnotize her.

"Yep. I'm thinking of losing the last part though. Jaune without the Arc you know? Short, sweet, rolls off the-" I began aiming to bring some levity to the conversation but getting blindsided when Weiss rushed forward to envelop me in a hug very reminiscent of the one Pyrrha had given me when I first arrived, if a bit more shaky.

"Tell me you have a plan." She said quietly, in a haunted tone of voice.

"...I have a plan." I offered, patting her loosely on the back a few times purely because I didn't know where _else_ to put my hands.

"Good. That was... unpleasant." Weiss said sniffling once as though she wanted to cry. If she did shed any tears she must have gotten over it pretty fast though, because by the time we separated, the unimpressed and calculating visage of the Ice Queen had slammed down around her like the ultimate defensive measure.

"What was it like?" I asked curiously.

"Like being a passenger in my own body. I knew I was behaving strangely but I couldn't _act_ on it." She said coldly, her hands balled up into little fists.

"Yikes. Okay. First thing, lets get everyone in one place so I can break this spell." I said, shooting a glance over my shoulder towards the kitchen just to make sure my Parents hadn't followed us out into the living room.

"And then?" Weiss asked, her eagerness for some kind of revenge temporarily trumping her impressive self control as she leaned forward with a fire burning behind her eyes that I was glad wasn't aimed at me for once.

"Then, I'm going to do what I do best." I said with a crooked smile as things started to come together in my mind.

"I'm going to go be a big dumb distraction."

-ooo-

Weiss, as it turned out, wasn't the only person slightly traumatized by her experiences with my family. Things went fairly smoothly at first, with Ren, Nora and Pyrrha not really needing to be freed since they weren't hypnotized in the first place. Blake was the first person I tried to work my magic on, which turned out to be a pretty good idea because if nothing else the Faunus girl was damn quiet. Which was useful when we were trying to stop anyone else that was home from noticing what was going on, but was sort of a pain when the first thing she tried to do when the spell was broken was strangle me to death. Luckily everyone else who was present had managed to wrestle her off me long enough to explain the situation and calm her down, even if she continued to send extremely hurt and betrayed glares my way for the rest of the process.

After that, we had gotten smarter about it. Weiss used a Glyph to prevent sound from leaving the room, and everyone else held Ruby down on my bed while I worked. Ruby didn't try to kill me but unlike Weiss or Blake she _did_ cry. Like, a lot. It was kind of cute actually that even while wailing like a child she had been asking about whether or not the rest of her team was okay. It had been less cute when she had calmed down for a second and asked about Crescent Rose, then immediately launched into _another_ wailing fit. And then there was Yang. When I broke the spell over Yang she stared at the ceiling of my room for exactly _one_ second, and then started screaming for a solid minute - proving that Weiss' glyph was very much necessary.

Now it was the late evening and all eight of us were sitting in my room with a oppressive silence filling the space between us.

"I'm really sorry about this guys." I said for what must have been the thousandth time.

"Don't worry about it Jaune. It's not your fault." Ruby said tiredly from where she sat in the corner of the room.

"It... kind of is though right? If I had told you about my family then-" I tried again only to be quickly shut down by Blake of all people.

"You didn't ask us to come here Jaune. And... you can't really be blamed for what the rest of your family does." She said after a second in a begrudging tone. She shared a meaningful look with Weiss for just a moment before returning to face me.

"We probably wouldn't have believed you if you told us anyway." She added with a shrug.

"She's right. I tried to explain it to them shortly before they were... ah, brainwashed." Pyrrha put forth. Out of everyone in the room she was the one that seemed the most stable. I guess that since she had managed to avoid being 'brainwashed' as she put it, plus the added security net Rider could provide for her meant that she was in the least danger out of everyone here.

"Still..." I hedged, still feeling _immensely_ guilty about all of this.

"Shut up Jaune. It's annoying." Yang growled, pacing back and forth across my room like a caged tiger.

"R-right. Okay. Here's the plan. I'm going to go distract my parents. While I do that, you guys make a run for the Bullhead okay?" I said, changing gears and trying to ignore whatever it was that had Yang so pissed off for the moment. Obviously part of it was the situation we all found ourselves in, but even Ruby seemed confused by how angry her sister was. A sentiment she had stated quite plainly several times in the few hours we had been here to the same response each time - an apologetic look and silence.

"That doesn't sound like a very good plan Jaune. You're just telling us to run away." Ren pointed out calmly.

"Yeah! We can't just leave you behind!" Nora chimed in.

"Your sisters also have to be accounted for." Pyrrha stated, her lips drawing into a thin line at the thought.

"I have a plan for that too. Just trust me on this one. With Rider backing you up you should be able to get away as long as my Dad is busy. People just aren't made to fight Servants." I explained, hoping they didn't push me to elaborate further. Mostly because I _definitely_ couldn't explain it to them.

"Why does your Mother called your Father 'Caster'?" Blake asked suddenly, eliciting a wince from me that must have been visible to everyone in the room.

"That's... a long story. It's not relevant to the plan. Just... Caster is more of a designation than a name. I already kil- beat. I beat the Caster from the Forever Falls." I provided, quickly changing my sentence when I realized what I was about to say. Even if objectively I knew that Servant's didn't really 'die' it still felt wrong to talk about killing one so calmly. It made the act feel almost impersonal, when it had really been anything but.

"But you just said that people couldn't beat Servants." Blake continued accusingly, apparently not quite as willing to trust me as she had seemed just a bit earlier.

"That's _also_ a long story." I ground out, through gritted teeth.

"Then _tell it_." Blake growled at me. We locked eyes and contrary to the obvious antagonism she was displaying Blake didn't look like she was angry at me. Just... disappointed. Betrayed possibly.

"I... okay you want the cliffnotes? I summoned my Servant wrong. Now he possesses me whenever I need him. I'm like... half Servant now or something. I don't know how to explain it any better than that." I said quickly, not wanting to spend more time on this than was necessary.

"So your explanation is basically something impossible to ascertain for anyone but you." Blake said suspiciously.

"Well yeah but Pyrrha has a Servant too so at least that's verifiable right? Look I'll answer any questions you want later. When everyone is back home. We still have the Vytal Festival to prepare for right?" I said, trying to put on a fearless smile.

"Will you tell me how your face got like that?" She asked, and I could feel Pyrrha tense next to me at the question. We had so far managed to avoid the topic of my discolored skin but I knew that couldn't last. Even if right now it was completely unrelated to the task at hand.

"Yes." I replied woodenly. Blake seemed to weigh my statement for a second before nodding and falling silent. Which was a blessing because my nerves were starting to get to me.

"Okay. Give me fifteen minutes then... run I guess." I said, taking the time to look everyone in the eyes, and waiting for each of them to nod at me before moving on. They _all_ had to run. If even one of them stayed then the chance existed for them to be captured again, which was the _last_ thing I wanted. There was no telling how merciful my family would be if they were captured a second time.

With a slow deliberateness I rose from my position sitting on the edge of my bed, and walked out into the hallway, shattering the silence glyph on my door as I did so.

A quick glance around the house with what passed for my Magical senses showed me a whole host of magical defenses and wards that had been hastily erected in the time since I had run away from the hospital and now. On the one hand, I was curious why such defenses didn't exist in the first place if I was so important to my parents master plan. On the other, I didn't really care.

With the same belligerence I had brought to bear against the perimeter ward around the property, I stretched a hand out and began to shred the magical defenses of the house. Every step I took was another bit of the over arching tapestry of spell work that no longer functioned. It was a strategy that wouldn't work if the Magus that had made the defenses had put something lethal into their bounded fields. A curse or an attack that would target anyone caught tampering with them. But knowing what they did about me, it made sense that my parents had opted to avoid that kind of thing. Wouldn't want their precious baby boy sticking his finger somewhere it didn't belong and getting fried by the resultant magical backlash after all.

By the time I had made it down the stairs and most of the way to the front door the whole house was alive with people yelling. My sisters called out in order, immediately determining that everyone was okay, with my Parents answering each call with their own hurried yells. By the time I had made it to the front porch, most of my family had spilled forth to beat back their perceived invaders, none with more fury than Rose.

"Jaune! What's going on!" She barked at me as she approached, only half dressed and twirling the chain of her weapon in one hand in preparation for a fight.

"Someone broke all the wards on the house." I said sarcastically, enjoying the way Rose didn't seem to even register my tone of voice as her eyes bounced around the yard like an attack dog trying to find a target.

"And _why_ exactly would they do _that_." My Dad asked me as he pushed past the rest of my sisters to cuff me on the back of the head.

"Come on Jaune, Magecraft isn't a toy." He said seriously.

"Oh I know. Walk with death and all that. Hey Dad, what _is_ the plan for stopping the Grail." I said casually, turning to face the rest of my family in various states of dress clumped up in the middle of our front yard.

"Tommorow Jaune." My Dad said with some exasperation. I opened my mouth to say something pithy in return but never got the chance to do so, as the back half of my Family home exploded outward in a gout of flame that swiftly disgorged all my friends into the surrounding forest. More so than anything else, my Dad just seemed _annoyed_ by the disturbance, like the sudden lack of a functioning house was barely even a deterrent to him.

"Rose, Brun, Lily, go get them." He said with a roll of his eyes.

"Assassin, now!" I yelled the second my older sisters turned to follow their orders. At which point, several things happened at once. For one, every weapon in the area rose to readiness, which I kind of expected. My Father didn't withdraw a weapon of any kind - mostly because he was wearing nothing but his boxers and therefore had nowhere to hold one - but his face twisted into one of pure confusion at me.

And every single one of my Sisters started to freaking glow.

For several tense moments it seemed as though nothing was going to happen, until the rest of my Family turned their attention back to me, finally realizing where the stealthy Servant of the Dagger had turned up.

"Now. Assuming I matter to your master plan and all that. This-" I said, pointing to the rusted dagger Assassin presently held to my throat. "- ignores Aura."

"You summoned... Assassin?" My Dad said, still more confused than anything else.

"Who was I _supposed_ to summon, Archer?" I asked pointedly.

"You were supposed to summoned _Caster!_ " My Dad decried suddenly, pointing an accusing finger at me.

"Dear. Shut up." My Mom cut in, shooting a worried glance behind me to Assassin, who hung behind me like an angry, quiet ghost. Or well, one of him did. The rest of him were ransacking the remains of the house for anything useful. Not that I was going to tell anyone that.

 _'For the record, I highly disagree with this.'_ Archer said from wherever he was watching events play out.

 _'That's the beauty of it. He really_ _ **does**_ _want to kill me.'_ I replied with far more confidence than I actually felt.

 _'I fail to see how that helps.'_ Archer answered bluntly.

 _'...it adds authenticity?'_ I tried, before turning my attention back to the people in front of me.

"So. Just for the record I'm pretty interested in destroying the Grail myself. I just don't trust _you_ to do it." I provided to my obviously confused family.

"You little piece of-" Rose roared then froze when Assassin jerked slightly, drawing a thin line of blood across my throat. It was only enough to break the skin and not much else, but it definitely made his point for him. Whatever else, the dagger worked as advertised.

Even if I _couldn't_ figure out why it worked that way.

"I love you too Rose." I joked, not really feeling any actual joy as I did so.

"He won't do it." My Dad said, shaking his head and wiping his hand across his face as though he was _beyond_ exasperated with this whole thing.

"I assure you, he will. This guy _hates_ me." I said testily, sort of annoyed at how easily my own Father was willing to gamble with my life.

"Yes, but will he do it when he finds out _you're_ the Grail?" He asked almost rhetorically.

"That is a _terrible_ lie." I said, actually laughing at the stupidity of the statement. There was no way I...

I glanced up at Assassin, his expression perfectly hidden by the skull mask he wore. Was it just my imagination or was he actually starting to look a little hesitant?

"No lie at all. We didn't manage to shut the Grail down in the second war but we _did_ recover it." My Mother said, edging closer to me along with the rest of the Arc, or no, I guess the _Einzbern_ clan.

"So you shoved it in _me_?" I asked incredulously.

"Among other things." My Mom replied dryly.

"Besides, the Homunculi grandfather made always started to die when the Grail became active. It was so short sighted I had to wait for him to die himself to test _my_ theory." She continued, waving a hand at my sisters as they fanned out to surround me.

"And what theory would _that_ be." I ground out nervoulsy, leaning back into the gangly Servant behind me. I still didn't really believe what they were saying but as far as stalling tactics went it was definitely working.

"Split the burden up of course. Seven Servants, seven containers, zero losses. The hardest part was getting a hold of the materials we would need to mold each of you correctly. You really should be thanking us, your Father and I. As far as genetics go you and your sisters are basically the cream of the crop." She continued, stepping every closer to the invisible line that would allow her to reach out and simply grab me.

I really, _really_ didn't like where this was going. And not just because I was actually starting to _believe_ my Dads crazy bullshit.

"But there are eight of us?" I said weakly, gesturing towards Mary and Anne specifically.

"Funny story that. The Second Wars Rider was actually-" My Dad began with a chuckle before being cut off by a blinding flare of white light ripping it's way across the forest and to my side so fast that a casual observer would liken it more to a two ton comet than the person it actually was.

"Hah! Well _this_ wars Rider is on... my... side..." I trailed off, turning towards the horse that had appeared next to me and walking my gaze up it's impressive armored form to the buxom blonde woman who sat atop it. The buxom blonde woman who most certainly _was not_ Rider.

"Good evening. I, am Sa-Lancer." The woman said regally, coughing just before she declared herself as Lancer.

"They don't care." Groused a woman in red banded armor that traipsed out of the forest behind her. She was pretty in a familiar kind of way. Her black hair winding down to her waist in thick rivulets that reminded me of Yangs. She would have probably been a lot prettier if she didn't have clear rings under her eyes from a lack of sleep, but _I_ definitely wasn't going to be the one to point it out. Not right now anyway.

"Are they not the family of the boy you described?" She asked crisply, ignoring the looks of confusion sent her way by everyone else present. If I had to hazard a guess my family didn't know who she was any better than I did, and so the both of us were merely waiting for her to show hostility before doing anything.

"So what if they are?" The black haired woman said tersely.

"Raven? What's going on?" My Mom said nervously, her eyes flicking back and forth between the new Servant and my twin sisters so quickly that her pupils were almost a blur.

"This bitch-" Raven began but paused when Lancer looked down at her serenely.

"...is the new leader of the Branwen Tribe - for now." She continued bitterly.

"By your own laws no less." Lancer added, a hint of mirth in her tone.

"We don't have-!" Raven growled at the figure before falling silent after a single glance at the massive silver lance she carried.

"Regardless. I have come seeking Jaune Arc." She said. I felt my tension ease slightly, at the statement, slowly lifting my hand to indicate that _I_ was one Jaune Arc.

 _'Jaune?'_ Archer said with a pained undertone to his voice.

 _'Oh good. Can you see the spear thing? Who the hell is this?'_ I asked him, hoping for slightly more background on this woman than 'probably on my side and also rides a horse'.

 _'Jaune. You need to run away_ _ **right now**_ _.'_ Archer replied, not answering my question. I would have questioned him as to why but the answer presented itself shortly afterwards, when the woman turned towards me in response to my own movement. I kind of felt bad for Assassin honestly. The guy had like no presence, and he hadn't spoken a word since arriving here. It was so easy to forget about him that I almost knicked my throat on his knife when I turned my head to face Lancer.

"You then? Yes, I can see the resemblance." She said with a self assured nod of her head.

"Thank you?" I said in confusion.

 _'Jaune! Right now! Run! That's Rhongomyniad! The fabled lance of_ _ **King Arthur**_ _!'_ Archer continued urgently.

 _'Weren't you like... dating King Arthur? Isn't that good?'_ I asked.

 _'It's not the same woman Jaune. She won't remember me. But she_ _ **will**_ _kill everyone here if she feels like it.'_ He answered coarsely.

"Truly. Now! Summon the Servant of the Bow that I might defeat him!" She declared haughtily.

 _'ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT?_ ' I sent, feeling sweat roll down my back at the way my family was suddenly paying attention to me again.

"I... ah, my Servant is Assassin actually... uh, Ma'am?" I stated.

"I was told your Servant is a tall man with white hair and a red coat. I trust that my retainer did not lie to me." Lancer said with a bright and friendly smile that was completely at odds with the way she lowered her weapon to point at me as she spoke.

 _'Can you think of any reason why she might_ _ **fucking reincarnate**_ _to kill you?'_ I asked desperately, and was obliged by a mental montage from Archer of the sheer number of times he had tried to kill 'Emiya Shirou'.

"Well. Shit." I muttered.

And then all hell broke loose.

 **-ooo-**

 **I'm not one hundred percent happy with this chapter. I feel like my dialogue tags get kind of repetitive after a while, But I also don't just want this fic to be one drawn out fight after the other (Even though that's pretty much status quo for RWBY.)**

 **I also could have probably broken this up into two smaller chapters but I decided against it. Seemed like it would cheapen things a bit to have Jaune show up to his home and then learn / achieve nothing by the end of the chapter. With regards to Larturia, Jaune and Archer are sort of unreliable narrators here - neither of them can reasonably discern what Larturia actually** ** _wants_** **so they're just going with the most obvious answer they can think of. This chapter doesn't really** ** _fully_** **explain the deal with the Arc family, but it does confirm some things a lot of reviewers have posited since like, twenty chapters ago. Next chapter is pretty likely to turn into a huge clusterfuck of a fight so theres that I suppose. I'm trying to keep to a fastish update speed now that I'm back to this fic after my vacation, but I can't really guarantee anything, especially when I keep getting ideas for other stories I want to right...**

 **Oh, and for anyone who isn't sure what the current status quo with regards to Servants & Masters is, user yournameoften posted a helpful list in the reviews that I'm just going to copy and paste here; (Thanks by the way)**

 **Saber of Roman - Julius Caesar, First of the Triumvirate  
Introduced himself to Jaune - Chapter 8**

 **Lancer of Vernal- Artoria Pendragon, King of Knights  
Mistakenly sent by Jaune to Vernal - Chapter 32**

 **Archer of Jaune - EMIYA, Hero of Justice  
Summoned into Jaune's body - Chapter 1**

 **Rider of Pyrrha - Boudica, Queen of Victory  
Called for Jaune's rescue - Chapter 14**

 **Caster of Cinder - Charles Babbage, Seeker of Steam's Future  
Harvested and tortured Jaune for his prana - Chapter 14  
Overheard arguing with Arthur by Jaune and Qrow - Chapter 23**

 **Assassin of Velvet- Hassan of 100 Personas, Hassan-i-Sabbah  
Attempted to murder Jaune and Pyrrha - Chapter 11  
Fought Jaune and Archer - Chapter 19**

 **Berserker (Beloved Darling) of Qrow - Kiyohime (Amber), Dragon Maiden of Fall  
An opportunity caused by Jaune that Ozpin took - Chapter 17**

 **Other Servants and Masters**

 **Caster of Juniper - Nicholas Flamel, Immortal of the Philosopher's Stone  
The surname of his father - Chapter 20  
The relationship of his parents - Chapter 26**

 **Lancer of Vernal - Leonidas I, Spartan of 300  
Overwritten by Jaune's shenanigans - Chapter 32 (Author's note)**

 **Arthur - Veteran of a Previous War  
Overheard arguing with Cinder by Jaune and Qrow - Chapter 23**

 **As always, questions in the reviews should be more or less answered by the next authors note I write. I just noticed how stupidly long this story is getting, which boggles the mind.**

 **So as always,**

 **Thanks for Reading.**


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